23

But ask not to what doctors I apply; Sworn to no master, of no sect am I : As drives the storm, at any door I knock, And house with Montaigne now, or now with Locke.

Sometimes a patriot, active in debate,

Mix with the world, and battle for the state;
Free as young Lyttleton, her cause pursue,

30

Still true to virtue, and as warm as true;
Sometimes with Aristippus, or St. Paul,
Indulge my candor, and grow all to all;
Back to my native moderation slide,
And win my way by yielding to the tide.
Long as to him who works for debt, the
day,-

Long as the night to her whose love's away,
Long as the year's dull circle seems to run,
When the brisk minor pants for twenty-one;
So slow th' unprofitable moments roll,
That lock up all the functions of my soul;
That keep me from myself, and still delay
Life's instant bus'ness to a future day;
That task which, as we follow, or despise,
The eldest is a fool, the youngest wise;

35

40

Which done, the poorest can no wants endure ; 45
And which not done, the richest must be poor.
Late as it is, I put myself to school,
And feel some comfort not to be a fool.
Weak though I am of limb, and short of sight,
Far from a lynx, and not a giant quite,

50

I'll do what Mead and Cheselden advise,
To keep these limbs, and to preserve these eyes.
Not to go back is somewhat to advance,
And men must walk, at least, before they dance.
Say, does thy blood rebel, thy bosom move 55
With wretched av'rice, or a wretched love?
Know, there are words and spells which can con-
troul,

Between the fits, this fever of the soul;

Know, there are rhymes which, fresh and fresh apply'd,

Will cure the arrant'st puppy of his pride.
Be furious, envious, slothful, mad, or drunk,

Slave to a wife, or vassal to a punk,

A Switz, a High-Dutch, or a Low-Dutch bear; All that we ask, is, but a patient ear.

60

'Tis the first virtue, vices to abhor,

65

And the first wisdom, to be fool no more:

But to the world no bugbear is so great

70

As want of figure, and a small estate.
To either India see the merchant fly,
Scar'd at the spectre of pale Poverty !
See him with pains of body, pangs of soul,
Burn through the tropic, freeze beneath the pole !
Wilt thou do nothing for a nobler end,
Nothing to make Philosophy thy friend?
To stop thy foolish views, thy long desires,
And ease thy heart of all that it admires?
Here, Wisdom calls, Seek Virtue first, be bold!
'As gold to silver, virtue is to gold.'

75

80

There, London's voice, Get money, money still!
And then let Virtue follow if she will.'
This, this, the saving doctrine preach'd to all,
From low St. James's up to high St. Paul;
From him whose quills stand quiver'd at his ear,
To him who notches sticks at Westminster.

Barnard in spirit, sense, and truth, abounds; 85 'Pray then what wants he?' Fourscore thousand pounds;

A pension, or such harness for a slave
As Bug now has, and Dorimant would have.
Barnard thou art a Cit, with all thy worth;
But Bug and D*1, Their Honors! and so forth.
Yet ev'ry child another song will sing,

91

Virtue, brave boys! 'tis virtue makes a king.' True conscious honor is to feel no sin; He's arm'd without that's innocent within: Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass; 95 Compar'd to this a minister's an ass.

And say, to which shall our applause belong, This new court-jargon, or the good old song? The modern language of corrupted peers, Or what was spoke at Cressy, or Poitiers? Who counsels best? who whispers, Be but great,

·

100

With praise, or infamy, leave that to Fate; • Get place, and wealth, if possible, with grace; "If not, by any means, get wealth and place.' For what? to have a box where eunuchs sing, And foremost in the circle eye a king.

106

Or he who bids thee face with steady view

Proud Fortune, and look shallow Greatness through,

And while he bids thee sets th' example too?

If such a doctrine, in St. James's air,

110

Should chance to make the well-dress'd rabble

stare;

If honest S**z take scandal at a spark

That less admires the Palace than the Park;
Faith I shall give the answer Reynard gave,
'I cannot like, dread Sir! your royal cave: 11☛
Because I see, by all the tracts about,

120

• Full many a beast goes in, but none come out.'
Adieu to Virtue, if you're once a slave:
Send her to court, you send her to her grave.
Well, if a king's a lion, at the least
The people are a many-headed beast.
Can they direct what measures to pursue,
Who know themselves so little what to do?
Alike in nothing but one lust of gold,

Just half the land would buy, and half be sold: 123
Their country's wealth, our mightier misers drain,
Or cross, to plunder provinces, the main ;

The rest, some farm the poor-box, some the pews.;
Some keep assemblies, and would keep the stews;
Some with fat bucks on childless dotards fawn; 130
Some win rich widows by their chine and brawn;
While with the silent growth of ten per cent,
In dirt and darkness hundreds stink content.

if each

Of all these ways, pursues his Satire be kind, and let the wretch alone;

own,

135

But shew me one who has it in his pow'r
To act consistent with himself an hour.
Sir Job sail'd forth, the ev'ning bright and still,
'No place on earth (he cry'd) like Greenwich

• hill!'

Up starts a palace; lo, th' obedient base 140 Slopes at its foot, the woods its sides embrace, The silver Thames reflects its marble face. Now let some whimsey, or that devil within, Which guides all those who know not what they mean,

But give the knight (or give his lady) spleen, Away, away! take all your scaffolds down, 146 For Snug's the word: my dear! we'll live in 'Town.'

At am'rous Flavio is the stocking thrown? That very night he longs to lie alone.

The fool, whose wife elopes, some thrice a quarter, For matrimonial solace dies a martyr.

151

Did ever Proteus, Merlin, any witch, Transform themselves so strangely as the rich? Well, but the poor-the poor have the same

itch;

They change their weekly barber, weekly news, Prefer a new japanner to their shoes; 156 Discharge their garrets, move their beds, and run (They know not whither) in a chaise and one; They hire their sculler, and, when once aboard, Grow sick, and damn the climate-like a lord. 160