Of wit and jest disturbs the solemn court. 10 19 Wild schemes of mirth, and plans of loose delight. TO DR. SHERLOCK,* ON HIS PRACTICAL DISCOURSE CONCERNING DEATH. ORGIVE the Muse, who, in unhallow'd strains, The Saint one moment from his God For sure, whate'er you do, where'er you are, Wondrous good man! whose labours may repel The force of sin, may stop the rage of hell : 10 * Dr. William Sherlock, master of the Temple; father of Dr. Thomas Sherlock, sometime Bishop of London. Thou, like the Baptist, from thy God wast sent, The crying voice, to bid the world repent. Thee Youth shall study, and no more engage Their flattering wishes for uncertain age; No more with fruitless care, and cheated strife, Chase fleeting Pleasure through this maze of life: Finding the wretched all they here can have, But present food, and but a future grave: Each, great as Philip's victor son, shall view This abject world, and weeping, ask a new. Decrepid Age shall read thee, and confess, Thy labours can assuage, where medicines cease; Shall bless thy words, their wounded soul's relief, The drops that sweeten their last dregs of life; Shall look to Heaven, and laugh at all beneath; Own riches gather'd, trouble; fame a breath; And life an ill, whose only cure is death. 20 Thy even thoughts with so much plainness flow, Their sense untutor'd infancy may know : Yet to such height is all that plainness wrought, Wit may admire, and letter'd Pride be taught: 31 Easy in words thy style, in sense sublime, On its blest steps each age and sex may rise; 'Tis like the ladder in the Patriarch's dream, Its foot on earth, its height above the skies, Diffus'd its virtue, boundless is its power; "Tis public health, and universal cure; Of heavenly manna 'tis a second feast; A nation's food, and all to every taste. 39 To its last height mad Britain's guilt was rear'd; And various death for various crimes she fear'd. With your kind work her drooping hopes revive; You bid her read, repent, adore, and live: You wrest the bolt from Heaven's avenging hand; Stop ready death, and save a sinking land. 50 O! save us still; still bless us with thy stay: O! want thy Heaven, till we have learnt the way: Refuse to leave thy destin'd charge too soon: And for the church's good, defer thy own. O! live: and let thy works urge our belief; Live to explain thy doctrine by thy life; Till future infancy, baptiz'd by thee, Grow ripe in years, and old in piety; Till Christians, yet unborn, be taught to die. Then in full age, and hoary holiness, Retire, great teacher! to thy promis'd bliss: Untouch'd thy tomb, uninjur'd be thy dust, As thy own fame among the future just; Till in last sounds the dreadful trumpet speaks; Till Judgment calls; and quicken'd Nature wakes: Till through the utmost earth, and deepest sea, 61 Our scatter'd atoms find their destin'd way, In haste to clothe their kindred souls again, Perfect our state, and build immortal man : Then fearless thou, who well sustaind'st the fight, To paths of joy, or tracts of endless light, Lead up all those who heard thee, and believ'd ; 'Midst thy own flock, great shepherd, be receiv'd; And glad all Heaven with millions thou hast sav'd. CARMEN SECULARE, FOR THE YEAR MDCC. TO THE KING. Adspice, venturo lætentur ut omnia sæclo: VIRG. Eclog. 4. HY elder look, great Janus, cast Æras deriv'd, and chronicles begun, That nothing went before so great, 11 compare: 20 Thy native Latium was thy darling care, The boldest virtues that have govern'd earth From dawning childhood to establish'd age, Confront the heroes of thy Roman race; 30 And let the justest palm the victor's temples grace. The son of Mars reduc'd the trembling swains, 40 And how much brighter virtue was, than gold: They scarce their swelling thirst of fame could hide; And boasted poverty with too much pride. 50 |