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And echoing praises, such as fiends might earn,
Yet man, laborious man, by slow degrees,
Increasing commerce and reviving art Renew the quarrel on the conqueror's part; And the sad lesson must be learn'd once more That wealth within is ruin at the door. What are ye, monarchs, laurell'd heroes, say, But Ætnas of the suffering world ye sway? Sweet Nature, stripp’d of her embroider'd robe, Deplores the wasted regions of her globe; And stands a witness at Truth's awful bar, To prove you there destroyers as ye are.
O place me in some Heaven-protected isle, Where Peace, and Equity, and Freedom smile; Where no volcano pours bis fiery flood, No crested warrior dips bis plume in blood; Where Power secures what Industry has won: Where to succeed is not to be indone; A land that distant tyrants hate in vain, In Britain's isle, beneath a George's reign!
Ainicitia nisi inter bonos esse non potest.
What virtue, or what mental grace,
Will boast it their possession ?
And dulness of discretion.
If every polish'd gem we find,
Provoke to imitation;
Or rather constellation.
No knave but boldly will pretend
A real and a sound one;
Candid, and generous, and just,
An errour soon corrected-
Is most to be suspected?
But here again, a danger lies,
And taken trash for treasure,
A mere Utopian pleasure.
An acquisition rather rare
Nor is it wise complaining,
We sought without attaining:
No friendship will abide the test,
Or mean self-love erected;
For vicious ends connected.
Who seeks a friend, should come disposed To exhibit in full bloom disclosed
The graces and the beauties That form the character he seeks; For 'tis a union that bespeaks
Mutual attention is implied,
And constantly supported:
Our own as much distortod.
But will sincerity suffice?
And must be made the basis ;
All shining in their places.
A fretful temper will divide
By ceaseless sharp corrosion;
At one immense explosion.
In vain the talkative unite
The secret just committed,
And by themselves outwitted.
How bright soe'er the prospect seems,
If envy chance to creep in;
But not a friend worth keeping.
As Envy pines at good possess'd,
On good that seems approaching;
And hates him for encroaching.
Hence authors of illustrious name,
Are sadly prone to quarrel,
And pluck each other's laurel.