ODE то ADVERSITY. Ziive Τὸν φρονεῖν βροτοὺς ὁδώ σαντα, τῶ πάθει μαθαν Θέντα κυρίως έχειν. ESCHYLUS, in Agamemnont. F 3 Whofe iron fcourge, and tort'ring hour, The bad affright, afflict the best! Bound in thy adamantine chain, The proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When When first thy Sire to fend on earth And from her own fhe learn'd to melt at others woe. Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleafing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noife, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leifure to be good, Light they difperfe; and with them go By vain Prosperity receiv'd, To her they vow their truth, and are again believ❜d. Wisdom Wisdom in fable garb array'd, Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound, And Melancholy, filent maid With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Warm Charity, the general friend, With Juftice to herself fevere, And Pity, dropping foft the fadly-pleafing tear. Oh, gently on thy fuppliant's head, Dread Goddess, lay thy chaft'ning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Nor circled with the vengeful band (As by the impious thou art feen) With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien, With screaming Horror's funeral cry, Defpair, and fell Disease, and ghaftly Poverty. Thy |