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THE ARGUMENT. Solomon confiders man through the feveral stages and conditions of life, and concludes in general, that we are all miferable. He reflects more particularly upon the trouble and uncertainty of greatnefs and power; gives fome inftances thereof from Adam down to himfelf; and ftill concludes that all is Vanity. He reafons again upon life, death, and a future being; finds human wisdom too imperfect to refolve his doubts; has recourse to religion; is informed by an angel, what shall happen to himself, his family, and his kingdom, till the redemption of Ifrael; and, upon the whole, refolves to fubmit his inquiries and anxieties to the will of his Creator.

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OME then, my Soul; I call thee by that name, Thou bufy thing, from whence I know I am : For, knowing what I am, I know thou art; Since that must needs exift, which can impart.

But how cam'st thou to be, or whence thy fpring? 5 For various of thee priefts and poets fing.

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Hear'ft

Hear'st thou fubmiffive, but a lowly birth,
Some feparate particles of finer earth,
A plain effect which nature must beget,
As motion orders, and as atoms meet;
Companion of the body's good or ill,

From force of instinct, more than choice of will;
Confcious of fear or valour, joy or pain,
As the wild courfes of the blood ordain ;
Who, as degrees of heat and cold prevail,
In youth doft flourish, and with age shalt fail;
Ti'l, mingled with thy partner's latest breath,
Thou fly'ft diffolv'd in air, and loft in death?
Or, if thy great existence would aspire
To caufes more fublime, of heavenly fire
Wert thou a fpark ftruck off, a feparate ray,
Ordain'd to mingle with terreftrial clay;
With it condemn'd for certain years to dwell,
To grieve its frailties, and its pains to feel;
To teach it good and ill, difgracè or fame,
Pale it with rage, or redden it with shame;
To guide its actions with informing care,
In peace to judge, to conquer in the war;
Render it agile, witty, valiant, sage,
As fits the various course of human age;
Till as the earthly part decays and falls,
The captive breaks her prison's mouldering walls;
Hovers a while upon the fad remains,
Which now the pile or fepulchre contains;
And thence with liberty unbounded flies,
Impatient to regain her native fkies?

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What

Whate'er thou art, where-e'er ordain'd to go,
(Points which we rather may difpute than know)
Come on, thou little inmate of this breast,
Which for thy fake from paffions I divest,
For thefe, thou fay'ft, raise all the ftormy ftrife,
Which hinder thy repose, and trouble life.
Be the fair level of thy actions laid,

As temperance wills, and prudence may perfuade:
Be thy affections undisturb'd and clear,
Guided to what may great or good appear,

And try if life be worth the liver's care.

Amafs'd in man, there juftly is beheld

What through the whole creation has excell'd:

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The life and growth of plants, of beafts the fenfe, 50
The angel's forecast and intelligence:

Say from these glorious feeds what harvest flows,
Recount our bleffings, and compare our woes.
In its true light let cleareft reafon fee

The man dragg'd out to act, and forc'd to be;
Helpless and naked, on a woman's knees.
To be expos'd and rear'd as she may please,
Feel her neglect, and pine from her disease:
His tender eye by too direct a ray
Wounded, and flying from unpractis'd day;
His heart affaulted by invading air,

And beating fervent to the vital war;

To his young fenfe how various forms appear,
That ftrike his wonder, and excite his fear:
By his distortions he reveals his pains;
He by his tears and by his fighs complains;

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Till

Till time and ufe affift the infant wretch,
By broken words and rudiments of fpeech,
His wants in plainer characters to fhow,
And paint more perfect figures of his woe;
Condemn'd to facrifice his childish years
To babbling ignorance, and to empty fears;
To pass the riper period of his age,
Acting his part upon a crowded ftage;
To lafting toils expos'd, and endless cares,
To open dangers, and to fecret fnares;
To malice which the vengeful foe intends,
And the more dangerous love of feeming friends.
His deeds examin'd by the people's will,

Prone to forget the good, and blame the ill;
Or fadly cenfur'd in their curs'd debate,
Who, in the fcorner's or the judge's feat,
Dare to condemn the virtue which they hate.
Or, would he rather leave this frantic fcene,
And trees and beafts prefer to courts and men,
In the remoteft wood and lonely grot

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Certain to meet that worst of evils, Thought;
Different ideas to his memory brought,
Some intricate as are the pathlefs woods,
Impetuous fome as the defcending floods;
With anxious doubts, with raging paffions torn,
No fweet companion near, with whom to mourn,
He hears the echoing rock return his fighs,
And from himself the frighted hermit flies.
Thus, through what path foe'er of life we rove, 95
Rage companies our hate, and grief our love.

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Vex'd with the present moment's heavy gloom,
Why feek we brightness from the years to come?
Disturb'd and broken like a fick man's fleep,
Our troubled thoughts to distant profpects leap,
Defirous still what flies us to o'ertake,
For hope is but the dream of thofe that wake:
But, looking back, we fee the dreadful train
Of woes anew, which were we to sustain,
We should refufe to tread the path again;
Still adding grief, ftill counting from the firft,
Judging the latest evils ftill the worst,
And fadly finding each progreffive hour
Heighten their number and augment their
Till, by one countless fum of woes oppreft,
Hoary with cares, and ignorant of rest,
We find the vital springs relax'd and worn,
Compell'd our common impotence to mourn,
Thus through the round of age to childhood we return;
Reflecting find, that naked from the womb

power,

We yesterday came forth; that in the tomb
Naked again we must to-morrow lie,

Born to lament, to labour, and to die.

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Pass we the ills which each man feels or dreads, The weight or fallen or hanging o'er our heads; 120 The bear, the lion, terrors of the plain,

The fheepfold fcatter'd, and the fhepherd flain;
The frequent errors of the pathlefs wood,
The giddy precipice, and the dangerous flood;
The noifome peftilence, that in open war
Terrible marches through the mid-day air,
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