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PLEASURE:

THE

SECOND BOOK.

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THE ARGUMENT.

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SOLOMON again feeking happiness, enquires if wealth and greatness can produce it: begins with the magnificence of gardens and buildings, the luxury of mufic and feafting and proceeds to the hopes and defires of love. In two epifodes are fbewn the follies and troubles of that paffion. SoLOMON fill disappointed, falls under the temptations of libertini/m and idolatry; recovers his thought, reafons aright, and concludes, that as to the pursuit of pleasure, and fenfual delight, ALL IS

VANITY AND VEXATION OF SPIRIT.

TEXTS chiefly alluded to in this BOOK.

I faid in mine heart, go to now, I will prove thee with mirth; there fore enjoy pleasure. Ecclefiaftes, Chap. II. ver. 1.

I made me great works, I builded me houses, I planted me vineyards.

ver. 4.

I made me gardens and orchards; and I planted trees in them of all kinds of fruits. ver. 5.

I made me pools of water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees.

ver. 6.

Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do, and behold, all was vanity and vexa• tion of spirit; and there was no profit under the fun. ver. 11. I gat me men fingers and women fingers, and the delights of the fons of men, as musical inftruments, and that of all forts.

ver. 8.

I fought in mine heart to give myself unto wine (yet unacquainting mine heart with wifdom) and to lay hold on folly, 'till I might fee what was that good for the fons of men, which they should do under hea ven, all the days of their life. ver. 3.

Then I faid in my heart, as it happeneth unto the fool, so it happeneth even unto me; and why was I then more wife? Then I said in my heart, that this alfo is vanity. ver. 15.

Therefore I hated life,

is grievous unto me.

because the work that is wrought under the fun Chap. II. ver, 17.

Bead flies caufe the ointment to fend forth a stinking flavour: fo doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour. Chap. X. ver. 1.

The memory of the just is blessed, but the name of the wicked shall rot. Proverbs, Chap. X. ver. 7.

THE

SECOND BOOK.

T

RY then, O man, the moments to deceive, That from the womb attend thee to the grave. *For weary'd nature find some apter scheme: Health be thy hope; and pleafure be thy theme: From the perplexing and unequal ways, Where ftudy brings thee; from the endless maze, Which doubt perfuades to run, forewarn'd recede, To the gay field, and flow'ry path, that lead To jocund mirth, foft joy, and careless ease: Forfake what may inftruct, for what may please: Effay amuling art, and proud expence ; And make thy reafon fubject to thy fenfe.

I commun'd thus the pow'r of wealth I try'd, And all the various luxe of coftly pride. Artifts and plans reliev'd my folemn hours: I founded palaces, and planted bow'rs. Birds, fishes, beafts of each exotic kind I to the limits of my court confin'd. To trees transferr'd I gave a fecond birth; And bid a foreign fhade grace Juda's earth. Fish-ponds were made, where former forefts grew:: And hills were levell'd to extend the view.

Rivers diverted from their native courfe,
And bound with chains of artificial force.
From large cafcades in pleafing tumult roll'd;
Or rofe thro' figur'd ftone, or breathing gold.
From furtheft Africa's tormented womb
The marble brought, erects the spacious dome,
Or forms the pillars long-extended rows,

On which the painted grove, and penfile garden grows.
The workmen here obey the mafter's call,
To gild the turret, and to paint the wall;
To mark the pavement there with various stone:
And on the jafper fteps to rear the throne:
The fpreading cedar, that an age had stood,
Supreme of trees, and miftrefs of the wood,
Cut down and carv'd, my fhining roof adorns,
And Lebanon his ruin'd honour mourns.

A thousand artifts fhew their cunning pow'r,
To raise the wonders of the iv'ry tow'r.
A thousand maidens ply the purple loom,
To weave the bed, and deck the regal room;
"Till Tyre confeffes her exhaufted ftore,
That on her coaft the Murex is no more;
"Till from the Parian ifle, and Libya's coaft,
The mountains grieve their hopes of marble loft;
And India's woods return their juft complaint,
Their brood decay'd, and want of elephant.

My full defign with vaft expence atchiev'd,
I came, beheld, admir'd, reflected, griev'd.
Ichid the folly of my thoughtless hafte :
For, the work perfected, the joy was past.

To my new courts fad thought did ftill repair; And round my gilded roofs hung hov'ring Care.

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