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How this, when to the Senses now impair'd

She lends the Strength, which Nature has denied?

And by the Help of Art, adds Eyes to Eyes

And Ears to Ears. Hence, e'en in this Life,

Herself She raises far above the Rank

And Lot of human Things; now calls from Heav'n

The Stars; now with resistless Pow'r unlocks

Earth's inmost Chambers; now draws forth to Light

Minutest Bodies, for the Eye too small,

And of new Worlds the Miracles displays.

What, when of Sense the Errors She corrects,
And by unerring Judgement of her own, .
Directly contrary to their Report, ,
The Shape, the Size, the Distances of Things
Determines? Do not these Things shew a Pow'r,
Detach'd from Sense, and Seed celestial? Hence,
This Frame dissolv'd, 'tis probable, the Mind,
Which now preluding short Excursions makes,
Shall Pow'r enjoy to take a freer Flight,
And into ev'ry Truth launch unrestrain'd.

Ask you, how this can be? We neither knoiv'
As yet, nor is it our Concern to know:
Didst thou thyself, when in thy Mother's Womb,
Know what a Life the Present? Knows the Man,
Blind from a Child, the sweet Variety
Of Colours? And yet He, you own, perceives

2 That

That others somewhat have, which to himself,
Born for Things better, is by Fate denied.

Just so the Mind sees Nothing upon Earth
That's equal to her Wishes; all is mean,
With that fair Form of Beauty infinite
Compar'd, which in his Bosom He preserves,
Whose Mind is vig'rous, and whofe Heart's inflam'd
With Love of Things above. The Country This,
That all his Wishes, all his Thoughts employs.
Absent from This, with ceaseless Love he pines
Of absent Object; and, true Lover like,
Shunning Society of Man, he seeks
The Groves, the purling Streams, and secret Shades,
Where all alone he with himself may muse,
And now with Verse, and now with Wisdom's Lore,
Or cheat, or mitigate, his Load of Cares.

That Man seems therefore happy to have liv'd, In my Account, who, when he has survey'd This World's grand Theatre with Mind compos'd, This Sun, and Earth, and Seas, and Clouds, and Fire; Strait, as a Guest well satisfied, returns From whence he came. For whether you're allow'd In Life to linger on an hundred Years, Or count but few, still the fame Scene recurs: Nought better or more new your Eyes behold, Than what they saw before. Count then that Time,

F Whate' Whate'cr it is, that's spent on Earth, no more

Than as some public 'Change; or larger Inn

For Persons outward bound; where Life detain'd

Hangs floating in Uncertainty, between

A thousand Follies tost, a thousand Cares.

Who first sets out, first gains the Port. Away!

Hoist quick the Sails, lest haply fail thy Stores.

Why lingrest thou? behind advancing on

Are dire Diseases, bitter Lofs of Friends,

And Age on ev'ry Side beset with Snares.
But whither am I hurried? Sure to leave

This World, without his Order, who asilgn'd

Our Station in it, and 'tween Hope and Fear
Plac'd us on Purpofe, that we might attend
The Banner of our Leader, is a Crime.
Whate'er we bear, we bear at God's Command,
And therefore ought to bear it. But were this
My firm Persuasion, that beyond the Grave
Nothing remain'd, soon would I choofe to pass
Hence to that Place, where All, or soon or late,
The Drama finisti'd, rest in endless Night.
Nay more, would God permit me to renew
My Youth, or Infant-cradle to resume,
The proser'd Invitation I'd refuse.

No, might I ev'ry Joy of Life possess,
Wit, Spirit, Prudence, Virtue, Eloquence,
Honour unenvied, a long Race of Sons,

Fam'd

Fam'd for their Father's Virtue and their own,
Not ev'n for such a Price as this I'd deign
The fame dull Path to tread so often o'er,
And the fame Circle wheel. The Mind aspires
To Things more glorious. To its high Desires
Nothing is equal, that can change or end.

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OF THE

IMMORTALITY Of The SOUL.

BOOK THE SECOND.

N ev'ry Thing beside, that God hath made, Plain Marks then of his Goodness he has shewn; All can, but Man, be happy. Man, on Earth Chief of his Works, Man in his Image made, With Sufferings severe is exercis'd.

No; of the Deity be such Complaints

Far from us. Yet look round with me awhile
On human Life; you'll own what a vast Crowd
Of Evils presses hard on ev'ry Side,
Not upon this, or that Man, as it falls;

But

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