Yes-thou may'ft eat thy bread, and lick the hand
That feeds thee; thou may'ft frolic on the floor At evening, and at night retire fecure
To thy ftraw couch, and flumber unalarm'd ; For I have gain'd thy confidence, have pledg'd All that is human in me, to protect Thine unfufpecting gratitude and love. If I furvive thee I will dig thy grave, And when I place thee in it, fighing fay, I knew at least one hare that had a friend. How various his employments, whom the world Calls idle, and who justly in return,
Efteems that busy world an idler too!
Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen, Delightful industry enjoy'd at home,
And nature in her cultivated trim
Drefs'd to his tafte, inviting him abroad- Can he want occupation who has these? Will he be idle who has much t' enjoy? Me, therefore, ftudious of laborious ease, Not flothful; happy to deceive the time, Not waste it; and aware that human life Is but a loan to be repaid with use, When He shall call his debtors to account, From whom are all our bleffings, bus'nefs finds Ev'n here: while fedulous I feek t' improve, At least neglect not, or leave unemploy'd,
The mind he gave me; driving it, though flack Too oft, and much impeded in its work By caufes not to be divulg'd in vain, To its just point, the service of mankind. He that attends to his interior self,
That has a heart and keeps it; has a mind That hungers and fupplies it; and, who seeks A focial, not a diffipated life,
Has business; feels himself engag'd t' achieve No unimportant, though a filent task.
A life all turbulence and noife, may seem To him that leads it, wife and to be prais'd; But wisdom is a pearl with most fuccefs Sought in ftill water, and beneath clear skies. He that is ever occupied in storms, Or dives not for it, or brings up instead, Vainly induftrious, a difgraceful prize.
The morning finds the felf-fequeft'd man Fresh for his task, intend what task he may. Whether inclement feasons recommend His warm but fimple home, where he enjoys, With her who shares his pleasures and his heart, Sweet converfe, fipping calm the fragrant lymph Which neatly she prepares; then to his book Well chofen, and not fullenly perus'd
In selfish silence, but imparted oft As aught occurs that she may fmile to hear, Or turn to nourishment, digested well.
Or if the garden with its many cares,
All well repay'd, demand him, he attends
The welcome call, confcious how much the hand Of lubbard labour needs his watchful eye, Oft loit'ring lazily, if not o'erseen,
Or mifapplying his unfkilful ftrength. Nor does he govern only to direct,
But much performs himself. No works indeed That afk robuft tough finews bred to toil, Servile employ-but fuch as may amufe, Not tire, demanding rather skill than force. Proud of his well fpread walls, he views his trees That meet (no barren interval between)
With pleasure more than ev'n their fruits afford, Which, fave himself who trains them, none can
Those therefore are his own peculiar charge, No meaner hand may difcipline the shoots, None but his steel approach them. What is weak,
Distemper'd, or has loft prolific pow'rs,
Impair'd by age, his unrelenting hand
Dooms to the knife: nor does he fpare the foft And fucculent that feeds its giant growth, But barren, at th' expence of neighb'ring twigs Lefs oftentatious, and yet ftudded thick With hopeful gems. The reft, no portion left That may difgrace his art, or difappoint
Large expectation, he difpofes neat At measur'd distances, that air and fun, Admitted freely, may afford their aid, And ventilate and warm the fwelling buds. Hence fummer has her riches, autumn hence, And hence ev'n winter fills his wither'd hand With blushing fruits, and plenty not his own. Fair recompence of labour well bestow'd, And wife precaution, which a clime so rude Makes needful ftill, whose spring is but the child Of churlish winter, in her froward moods Discov'ring much the temper of her fire. For oft, as if in her the ftream of mild Maternal nature had revers'd its courfe, She brings her infants forth with many fmiles, But once deliver'd, kills them with a frown. He therefore, timely warn'd, himself supplies Her want of care, fcreening and keeping warm The plenteous bloom, that no rough blast may fweep
His garlands from the boughs. Again, as oft As the fun peeps and vernal airs breathe mild, The fence withdrawn, he gives them ev'ry beam, And spreads his hopes before the blaze of day.
Miraturque novos fructus et non fua poma.
To raise the prickly and greer-coated gourd, So grateful to the palate, and when rare So coveted, elfe bafe and difefteem'd- Food for the vulgar merely-is an art That toiling ages have but just matur'd, And at this moment unaffay'd in fong. Yet gnats have had, and frogs and mice, long fince,
Their eulogy; those fang the Mantuan bard, And these the Grecian, in ennobling strains; And in thy numbers, Phillips, shines for aye The folitary fhilling. Pardon then,
Ye fage difpenfers of poetic fame!
Th' ambition of one meaner far, whose pow'rs, Prefuming an attempt not lefs fublime, Pant for the praife of dreffing to the taste Of critic appetite, no fordid fare, A cucumber, while coftly yet and scarce. The stable yields a ftercoraceous heap, Impregnated with quick fermenting falts, And potent to refift the freezing blast; For ere the beech and elm have caft their leaf Deciduous, when now November dark
Checks vegetation in the torpid plant Expos'd to his cold breath, the task begins. Warily therefore, and with prudent heed, He seeks a favour'd spot; that where he builds Th'agglomerated pile, his frame may front
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