Imatges de pÓgina

Picture of a good Man.

WITH aspect mild, and elevated eye,

Behold him seated on a mount serene

Above the fogs of Sense, and Passion's storm:
All the black cares, and tumults of this life,
Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet,
Excite his pity, not impair his peace.


Earth's genuine son's, the sceptred and the slave,
A mingled mob! a wand'ring herd! he
Bewilder'd in the vale; in all unlike!.
His full reverse in all! what higher praise?
What stronger demonstration of the right?
The present all their care; the future his.
When public welfare calls, or private want,
They give to fame; his bounty he conceals.
Their virtues varnish nature; his exalt.
Mankind's esteem they court; and he his own..
Theirs the wild chase of false felicities;
His, the compos'd possession of the true.
Alike throughout in his consistent piece,.
All of one colour, and an even thread;
While party-colour'd shreds of happiness,
With hideous gaps between, patch up for them
A madman's robe; each puff of fortune blows
The tatters by, and shews their nakedness.

He sees with other eyes than theirs: Where they Behold a sun, he spies a Deity:.

What makes them only smile, makes him adore..
Where they see mountains, he but atoms sees,;,
An empire in his balance, weighs a grain.
They things terrestrial worship, as divine:
His hopes immortal blow them by, as dust,
That dims his sight, and shortens his survey,
Which longs, in infinite, to lose all bound.
Titles and honours (if they prove his fate)
He lays aside to find his dignity;

No dignity they find in aught besides..
They triumph in externals, (which conceal

Man's real glory,) proud of an eclipse:
Himself too much he prizes to be proud;
And nothing thinks so great in man, as man.
Too dear he holds his int'rest, to neglect
Another's welfare, or his right invade;
Their int'rest, like a lion, lives on prey.
They kindle at the shadow of a wrong;
Wrong he sustains with temper, looks on heav'n,
Nor stoops to think his injurer his foe;
Nought, but what wounds his virtue, wounds his


A cover'd heart their character defends;
A cover'd heart denies him half his praise.
With nakedness his innocence agrees,

While their broad foilage testifies their fall!
Their no joys end, where his full feast begins:
His joys create, theirs murder, future bliss.
To triumph in existence, his alone;
And his alone triumphantly to think
His true existence is not yet begun.

His glorious course was, yesterday, complete:
Death, then, was welcome; yet still life is sweet.


« AnteriorContinua »