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Iwho can tell how hard it is to climb
A The telep where Flame's proud temple lainesafar !
Ah! who can tell how many a foul sublime 1!ts felt the influence of malignant ftar, wag
d with Fortune an eternal war! Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar,
In life's low vale remote his pined alone, "Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!
II. And yet, the languor of ingloriou3 days, Not cqually oppressive is to all. Him who ne'er liftend to the voice of praise, The filence of neglect can ne'er appal. There are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call, Woud Inrink to hear th’ebilreporous trump of Fame Supremely blelt if to their portion fall Health, competence, and peace. Nor higher aim Hlad He, whose fimple tale these artless lines pror claim.