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I then more wife? Then I faid in my heart, that this also is vanity. Verf. 15.

Therefore I hated life, because the work that is wrought under the fun is grievous unto me. Chap. II. Verf. 27.

Dead flies cause the ointment to fend forth a stink

ing favour: fo doth the little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour. Chap. X. Verf. I.

The

memory of the juft is bleffed, but the memory of the wicked fhall rot. Proverbs, Chap. X. Verf, 7.

PLEA

PLEASURE:

THE

SECOND BOOK.

THE ARGUMENT.

Solomon, again feeking happinefs, 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 episodes are shewn the follies and troubles of that paffion. Solomon ftill disappointed, falls under the temptations of libertinifm and idolatry; recovers his thoughts, reafons aright, and concludes, that as to the purfuit of pleasure, and fenfual delight, ALL IS

VANITY AND VEXATION OF SPIRIT.

TR

RY then, O man, the moments to deceive, That from the womb attend thee to the grave; For wearied nature find some apter scheme: Health be thy hope; and pleasure be thy theme: From the perplexing and unequal ways, Where ftudy brings thee; from the endless maze,

Which

Which doubt perfuades to run, forewarn'd, recede
To the gay field, and flowery path, that lead
To jocund mirth, foft joy, and careless cafe:
Forfake what may inftruct, for what may please;
Effay amufing art, and proud expence:
And make thy reason subject to thy sense.
I commun'd thus: the power of wealth I try'd,
And all the various luxe of coftly pride,
Artists and plans reliev'd my folemn hours;
I founded palaces, and planted bowers.
Birds, fishes, beasts of each exotic kind,
I to the limits of my court confin’d.
To trees transferr'd I gave a second birth;
And bid a foreign fhade grace Judah's earth.
Fish-ponds were made, where former forests grew
And hills were levell'd to extend the view.
Rivers diverted from their native course,
And bound with chains of artificial force,
From large cafcades in pleafing tumult roll'd,
Or rofe through figur'd ftone, or breathing gold.
From furtheft Africa's tormented womb
The marble brought, erects the fpacious dome,
Or forms the pillars long extended rows,

On which the planted grove, and penfile garden grows.
The workmen here obey'd the mafter's call,
To gild the turret, and to paint the wall;
To mark the pavement there with various stone;
And on the jasper fteps to rear the throne:
The fpreading cedar that an age had stood,
Supreme, of trees, and mistress of the wood,

Cut.

Cut down and carv'd, my fhining roof adorns,
And Lebanon his ruin'd honour mourns.

A thousand artists fhew their cunning power,
To raise the wonders of the ivory tower.
A thousand maidens ply the purple loom,
To weave the bed, and deck the regal room;
"Till Tyre confeffes her exhausted store,
'That on her coast 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;
I chid the folly of my thoughtless hafte :
For, the work perfected, the joy was paft.

To my new courts fad thought did still repair; And round my gilded roofs hung hovering care. In vain on filken beds I fought repofe; And restlefs oft from purple couches rofe; Vexatious thought ftill found my flying mind Nor bound by limits, nor to place confin'd; Haunted my nights, and terrify'd my days; Stalk'd through my gardens, and purfu'd my ways

Yet take thy bent, my foul; another fenfe
Indulge; add mufic to magnificence:
Effay, if harmony may grief controll;

Or power of found prevail upon the foul.

* The Murex is a fhell-fish; of the liquor whereof a

purple colour is made.

Often

Often our feers and poets have confeft,
That mufic's force can tame the furious beaft;
Can make the wolf, or foaming boar restrain
His rage; the lion drop his crefted main,
Attentive to the fong; the lynx forget

His wrath to man, and lick the minstrel's feet.
Are we, alas! lefs favage yet than these?
Elfe mufic fure may human cares appeafe.
I fpake my purpofe; and the chearful choir
Parted their fhares of harmony: the lyre
Soften'd the timbrel's noife; the trumpet's found
Provok'd the Dorian flute (both sweeter found
When mix'd); the fife the viol's notes refin'd
And every ftrength with every grace was join'd.
Each morn they wak'd me with a sprightly lay;
Of opening Heaven they fung, and gladfome day.
Each evening their repeated fkill exprefs'd
Scenes of repofe, and images of rest: "

Yet ftill in vain; for mufic gather'd thought:
But how unequal the effects it brought!
The foft Ideas of the chearful note,
Lightly receiv'd, were eafily forgot:
The folemn violence of the graver found
Knew to ftrike deep, and leave a lasting wound.
And now reflecting, I with grief defcry

The fickly luft of the fantastic eye;
How the weak organ is with feeing cloy'd,
Flying ere night what it at noon enjoy'd.
And now (unhappy search of thought!) I found
The fickle ear foon glutted with the found,

VOL. II.

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