Though man sits still, and takes his ease; God is at work on man; No means, no moment unemploy'd, But man consents not, boldly bent Man, a mere bungler in the trade, Repents his crime too late; Hence loud laments: let me thy cause, Indulgent Father! plead; Of all the wretches we deplore, Of love divine the child; Love brought it forth; and, from its birth, Now, and through periods distant far, Man holds in constant service bound The blustering winds and seas; Nor suns disdain to travel hard Their master, man, to please : To final good the worst events Through secret channels run; One point (observ'd, perhaps, by few) What's known to man of things unseen, So much, nor more, than what to man's What's revelation then? a list, An inventory just Of that poor insect's goods, so late What various motives to rejoice! Has this no weight? our joy is felt Would we in Heaven new Heaven create, And double its delight? A smiling world, when Heaven looks down, Angels stoop forward from their thrones As incense sweet enjoy, and join, Its aromatic praise: Have we no cause to fear the stroke If we resign, our patience makes His rod an armless wand; VOL. XIII. Consummate love! the list how large Of blessings from thy hand! Joy is our duty, glory, health; Tis joy makes gods, and men exalts, Relief, for man to that must stoop, And his due distance know; Content is joy, and joy in pain Of joy the more we have in hand, Is it not hard to weep in joy What then to surile in pains?" Victorious joy! which breaks the clouds, And struggles through a storm; Proclaims the mind as great, as good; And bids it doubly charm: If doubly charining in our sex, A sex, by nature, bold; What then in yours? 't is diamond there, And should not this complaint repress? Since spirits greatly damp'd distort Look through the medium of a friend, To set your notions right: As tears the sight, grief dims the soul; A friend's an optic to the mind Reason is somewhat rough in man; When she, to grace her manly strength, A friend 3 you have, and I the same, Will bring to life those healing thoughts 3 Mrs. Montague. KA 1 T is brewing perfect pains; Have you 4 ne'er pity'd joy's gay scenes, And quite mistakes her mark: And in proud fortune's frown defy'd By resignation; all in that A double friend may find, A wing to Heaven, and, while on Earth, The pillow of mankind : On pillows void of down, for rest Our restless hopes we place; When hopes of Heaven he warm at heart, 'T is disbeliev'd by murmuring minds, They must conclude it less: The loss, or gain, of that alone That fate controls, and can invert O! the dark days, the year around, Of an impatient mind! Through clouds, and storms, a summer breaks, To shine on the resign'd: While man by that of every grace, Foul vice her pandemonium builds By resignation we defeat The worst that can annoy; A theme themselves! A theme, how rare! To triumph over captive heads, Are set in bright array: With his own arms proud man's o'ercome, Learning and genies, wiser grown, To female bosoms fly. 4 Mrs. Montague. This revolution, fix'd by fate, The latent sense burst out at once, So burst, full ripe, distended fruits, Pallas, ('t is said) when Jove grew dull, And sprightly leap'd into the throne And lance, or, genius most acute, And gorgon shield,-or, power to fright Our authors male, as, then, did Jove, The fruit of knowledge, golden fruit! To Britain's daughters free: In Eve (we know) of fruit so fair And they, like her, have caus'd a fall, And since of genius in our sex, O Addison! with thee The sun is set; how I rejoice This sister lamp to see! It sheds, like Cynthia, silver beams His lessen'd light, and languid powers, PART II. But what in either sex, beyond What the most formidable fate? "To have our own desire." If, in your wrath, the worst of foes Expose him to the thunder's stroke, What numbers, rushing down the steep Have perish'd in their ardent wish! 5 Mrs. Montague. Mrs. Carter. 'Tis resignation's full reverse, Most wrong, as it implies Errour most fatal in our choice, Detachment from the skies. By closing with the skies, we make We scarce believe ourselves below! The Lord, the soul, and source of all, Is executing human will, In earth, and air, and seas; What glory this for man so mean, This, the sublime of man! Of Rome's exalted lines. "All, that the Sun surveys, subdued, How grand! most true; yet far beneath To more than kingdoms, more than worlds, Its matchless empire could have kept That fatal pride, whose cruel point Transfix'd his noble breast; Had left to Heaven the rest; It wonders can perform ; That powerful charm, "Thy will be done," Come, Resignation! then, froin fields, Who is it calls thee? one whose need In front he stands, the brink he treads Of an eternal state; How dreadful his appointed post! How strongly arm'd by fate: His threatening foe! what shadows deep Haste, then, O Resignation! haste, O! for that summit of my wish, A glorious smile in death: What sight, Heaven's azure arch beneath, At Death's arrival they shall smile, Serious and frequent thought send out My gay coevals! (such there are) The fear of death is truly wise, Till wisdom can rise higher; And, arm'd with pious fortitude, Death dreaded once, desire: Grand climacteric vanities The vainest will despise; Shock'd, when beneath the snow of age But am not I myself the man? What cause to blush at home? In life's decline, when men relapse His tren.bling voice attempt to sing, My fault who, partly, shares, What more becomes our years; You will not disapprove a just In youth, Voltaire! our foibles plead When heads are white, their thoughts and aims How are you cheated by your wit! By Nature's law, a mind discreet, A mighty change is wrought by years, In age 't is bonour to lie hid, 'T is praise to be forgot; The wise, as flowers, which spread at noon, When evening damps and shades descend, What though your Muse has nobly soar'd, Is that our true sublime? Ours, hoary friend! is to prefer Why close a life so justly farm'd With such bold trash as this 6? This for renown? yes, such as makes Obscurity a bliss: Your trash, with mine, at open war, Is obstinately bent 7, Like wits below, to sow your tares Why dash with pain our pleasure? why Your works in our divided minds Repugnant passions raise, A curious web, as finely wrought From a black bag of poison spun, Mean as it is, if this is read Nor would deplore his fate; A fate how much to be deplor'd! To perish by your parts: "But great your name"-To feed on air, Can fame your carcase from the worm But fame you lose; good sense alone Nor boast your genius, talents bright; If in your western beams is miss'd Your taste too fails; what most excels Sound heads salvation's helmet seek 8, Let that suffice; it needs no plume, May this enable couch'd Voltaire If so, all's well: who much have err'd, I speak with joy, with joy he'll hear, Its marvellous of love extends Or dwell on their distress; The God as present, by plain steps I behold passing through my life; But where the trees, or where the clouds, Naked the centre to that eye, To which the Sun is night. As yonder glittering lamps on high Through night illumin'd roll; May thoughts of him, by whom they shine, My soul, which reads his hand as clear As in his ample manuscript Of Sun, and Moon, and stars; A world, that shall survive the fall Yon matter gross, how bright it shines! Sure spirit and eternity Far richer glories share; Let those our hearts impress, on those On those my thoughts how justly thrown, When backward with attentive mind I find him far myself beyond Propitious to my peace: Through all the crooked paths I trod, Due resignation home to press 9 Which his romance ridicules, How many foes in ambush faid So little mortals know!) I rarely plann'd, but cause I found It turn'd to my success. Through dark and deep perplexities And is not this the gloomy path, Which you are treading now? He kindly cur'd with sovereign draughts Pain'd sense from fancy'd tyranny A thousand miseries we feel, Till sunk in misery. Cloy'd with a glut of all we wish, Is ruin'd by success : Sometimes he led me near to death, And, pointing to the grave, To raise my thoughts beyond where worlds One day he gave, and bid the next My soul's delight resign. We to ourselves, but through the means In this my fate can you descry And if you can, let that excuse A record, modesty forbids, Or to small bound confines : In grief why deep ingulf'd? You see Uncommon grief for common fate! That wisdom cannot bear. When streams flow backward to their source, But human prudence too must cease, The pang most poignant of my life Now heightens my delight; I see a fair creation rise From chaos, and old night: From what seem'd horrour, and despair, The richest harvest rose; And gave me in the nod divine An absolute repose. Of all the plunders of mankind, More gross, or frequent, none, But whither points all this parade? Self-knowledge, which from Heaven itself What is it, but a daughter fair Would they consult their own contents, Enter your bosom; there you'll meet A revelation personal; Which none can read but you. A mighty Being! and in him A father, brother, spouse; no dread Who such a matchless friend embrace, My short advice to you may sɔund Though 't is the best that man can give,→→ "E'en be content with God." Through love he gave you the deceas'd, This friend, far past the kindest kind, His eye, this instant, reads your heart; This instant its most secret thoughts Dispute you this? O! stand in awe, |