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Come, and forsake thy cloying store;
Thy turret that surveys, from high,
And all the busy pageantry
Sometimes 'tis grateful to the rich to try
poverty: A savoury dish, a homely treat, Where all is plain, where all is neat,
Without the stately spacious room,
The Syrian ftar,
Barks from afar,
The shepherd drives his fainting flock
The Sylvans to their shades retire,
require, And want a cooling breeze of wind to fan the raging fire,
Bat God has, wisely, hid from human fight
The dark decrees of future fate,
And fows their feeds in depth of night;
And put it out of fortune's pow'r :
Is fometimes high, and sometimes low,
And always in extreme.
Anon it lifts aloft the head,
And trunks of trees come rolling down,
Sheep and their folds together drown : Both house and homefted into feas are borne ;
And rocks are from their old foundations torn,
He, who can cal] to-day his own :
He who, fecure within, can fay,
Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine,
Not Heav'n itself upon the past has pow'r ;
Does man her slave oppress,
Still various and unconstant ftill,
Promotes, degrades, delights in Grife,
And makes a loctery of lite.
I can enjoy her while she's kind;
And ihakes the wings and will not tay,
I puff the prostitute away :
Content with poverty, my foul I arm;
What is't to me,
For his ill-gotten gain ;
His wealth into the main.
my small pinace I can sail,
And running with a merry gale,
And see the storm ashore.
The SECONDE PODE of
Howrich in humble poverty, is he,
in his low
Who leads a quiet country life;
Liv'd men in better ages born,
Their small paternal field of corn. Nor trumpets fummon him to war.
Nor drums difturb his morning fleep, Nor knows he merchants gainful care,
Nor fears the dangers of the deep.
And court and state, he wisely fhuns,
To fervile falutations runs ;
Does the supporting poplar wed, Or with his pruning-hook disjoin
Unbearing branches from their head,
And grafts more happy in their stead : Or, climbing to a hilly steep,
He views his herds in vales afar, Or sheers his overburden'd sheep,
Or mead for cooling drink prepares,
Of virgin honey in the jars. Or in the now declining year,
When bounteous autumn rears his head, He joys to pull the ripen'd pear,
And clust'ring grapes with purple spread.
The fairest of his fruit he serves,
Priapus, thy rewards :
Whose care the fences guards.
Or on the matted grafs he lies ;
The stream that o'er the pebbles fies
With gentle flumber crowns his eyes.
Maintains the consort of the song ;
The golden sleep prolong.
And hoary froit inverts the year,
And seeks the tulky boar to rear,
With well-mouch'd hounds and pointed spear!
With twinkling glasses, to betray
Or makes the fearful hare his prey.
No anxious care invades his health,
Nor wicked avarice of wealth,
Sun-burnt and swarthy cho' she be,
And without noise will oversee
His children and his family ;
And order all things till he come, d
Sweaty and overlabour'd, home;