Armstrong., A graceful looseness, when he pleas d, put on,
And laughing could instruct. Much had he-

read,
Much more had seen; he studied from the life
And'in th' original perus'd mankind.
Vers’d in the woes and vanities of life,
He pitied man: and much he pitied those
Whom fallely - finiling fate has curs'd with

means
To dissipate their days in quest of joy.
Our aim is Happiness; 'tis your's, 'tis mine!
He said, 'tis the pursuit of all that live;
Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain'd.
But they the wideft wander from the mark,
Who thro' the flow'ry paths of faunt'ring joy
Seek this coy Goddess, that from stage to

stage
Invites us ftill, but shifts as we pursue.
For, noi to name the pains that Pleasure brings.
To counterpoise itfelf, relentless Fate
Forbids that we thro' gay voluptuous wilds
Should ever roam: And were the Fates

kind
Our narrow luxuries would soon be ftale.
Were thele exhaustless, Nature would

grow

more

fick,

a

And cloy'd with plealure , fqueamishly com.

plain
That all was vanity, and life a dream.
Let nature rest; be busy for yourself,
And for your friend; be buly even in vain,
Rather than teize her fated appetites
Who never fafts, no banquet e'er enjoys;
Who never toils or watches, never sleeps.
Let nature rest: And when the taste of joy
Grows keen, indulge; but fhun satiety.
'Tis not for mortals always to be blest.
But him the least the dull or painful hours
Of life oppress, whom fober sense conducts,
And virtue thro' this labyrinth, we tread.

Vir

Virtue and sense I mean not to disjoin;

2uniftrong.
Virtue and sense are one: and trust me, he
Who has not virtue is not truly wise.
Virtue (for mere good - nature is a fool)
Is fense and spirit, with humanity:
'Tis sometimes angry, and its frown confounds;
Tis even vindi&tive, but in vengeance just.
Knaves fain would laugh at it; some great ones

dare;
But at his heart the most undaunted fon
Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms.
To noblest uses this determines wealth:
This is the solid pomp of prosperous days:
The peace and shelter of adversity, .
And if you pant for glory, build your fame
On this foundation, which the secret shock
Defies of Envy and all- fapping Time.
The gaudy gloss of Fortune only strikes
The vulgar eye: The suffrage of the wife
The praise that's worth ambition, is attain'd
By sense alone, and dignity of mind,
Virtue the strength and beauty of the foul
Is the best gift of heaven: a happiness
That even above the finiles and frowns of fate
Exalts great Nature's favourites: a wealth
That ne'er encumbers, nor to baser hands
Can be transferred: it bis the only good
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd;
Or dealt by chance, to shield a lucky knave.
Or throw a cruel sun-fhine on a fool.

a
But for one end, one much-neglected use,
Are riches worth your care (for Nature's wants
Are few, and without opulence supplied)

2

1

1

Armstrong. This noble end is, to produce the soul:

To shew the virtue's in their fairelt light;
To make Humanity the Minister
Of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast
That generous luxury the Gods enjoy
Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly Sage
Sometimes declaim’d. Of Right and Wrong he

taught
Truths as refin'd as ever Athens heard :
And '(strange to tell!) he practis'd what he

preach'd.

Some rv i I e.

Somervile.

é

Williant Somerrile, (aeb. 1692; geft. 1743;) ein angesehener englischer Landedelmann und Friedensrichter, und ein eifriger Liebhaber der schönen Literatur.

Er vers suchte sich in mehrern Dichtungsarten, besonders auch in der dsopischen Fabel; in keiner aber mit so glücklichem Erfolg, als im Lehrgedichte, zu dessen Inhalte er die Jagd wählte, die er im frühern Cheile seines Lebens eifrig betrieb und im spåtern mit desto mehr Stenntniß belang. Dieß Bedicht, The Chase, ift in reimlosen Jamben geschrieben, und besteht aus vier Büchern. In dem ersten wird eine kurze Geschich: te von dem ursprunge und Fortgange der Jagden vorausge: schickt, und dann von der Wahl, Wartung und Verschies denheit der Jagdhunde gehandelt; in den beiden folgenden geht der Dichter die mancherlei Arten der Jagd, in Anses hung des Bildes, und des Verfahrens verschiedner Natio: pen, durch : und in dem legten Buche trågt er noch verschieds ne Jägervorschriften nach, die größtentheils wieder die Jagdhunde betreffen. Sachverständige gebent, wie Dr. Johnson bemerkt, diesem Gedichte das Zeugniß, daß es durchgehends init sehr richtiger Einsicht geschrieben sey; aber auch das poetische Verdienst ist nicht geringe, welches es durch lebhaftigkeit des Tons, durch Abwechselung der Gegenstände, durch Schönheit der Bilder und des Vortra: ges, und durch leichte Verbindung der Theile, erhalten hat.

THE CHASE; B. II, v. 51--297.

Now golden Autumn from her open lap
Her fragrant bounties show'rs; the fields are

fhorn:
Inwardly Imiling, the proud farmer views
The rising pyramids that grace his yard,
And counts his large increase: his barns are stor’d,

And

Somervilc. And groaning staddles bend beneath their load.

All now is free as air, and the grey pack
In the rough bristly stubbles range unblam'd.
No widow's tears o'erflow, no secret curie
Swells in the farmer's breaft, which his pale lips
Trembling conceal, by his fierce landlord aw'd;
But courteous now lze levels ev'ry fence,
Joins in the common cry, and halloos loud,
Charm'd with the ratt’ling thunder of the field.
Oh! bear me, some kind l'ow'r invisible!
To that extended lawn, where the gay court
View the swift racers, stretching to the goal,
Games more renown'd, and a far nobler train,
Than proud Elean fields could boast of old;
Oh! were a Theban lyre not wanting here,
And Pindar's voice, to do their merit right;
Or to those spacious plains, where the strain'd

eye
In the wide prospect loft, beholds at last
Sarum's proud spire, that o'er the hills ascends,
And pierces thro' the clouds; or to thy downs,
Fair Coltswold! where the well-breath'd beagle

climbs,
With matchless speed; the green - afpiring brow,
And leaves the lagging multitude behind.

a

Hail, gentle Dawn. mild blushing goddels,

hail!
Rejoicd I see thy purple mantle spread
O’er half the skies; gems pave thy radiant way,
And orient pearls from ev'ry 1 hrub depend.
Farewell, Cleora! here, deep funk in down,
Slumber secure, with happy dreams amus'd,
Till grateful fteam's shall tempt thee to receive
Thy early meal, or thy officious maids,
The toilette plac'd, shall urge thee to perform
Th' important work. Me other joys invite;
The horn fonorous calls, the pack awak'd
Their matins chaunt, nor brook my long delay;
My courser hears their voice : see there with ears

And