They thank'd their Maker for a pittance sent,
Supp'd on a turnip, slept upon content.

Four rooms, above, below, this mansion graced,
With white-wash deck'd, and river-sand o'ercast :
The first, (forgive my verse if too diffuse,)
Perform'd the kitchen's and the parlour's use :
The second, better bolted and immured,
From wolves his out-door family secured:
(For he had twice three kids, besides their dams;
A cow, a spaniel, and two fav'rite lambs :)
A third, with herbs perfumed, and rushes spread,
Held, for his mother's use, a feather'd bed:
Two moss-matrasses in the fourth were shown;
One for himself, for friends and pilgrims one.
No flesh from market-towns our peasant sought:
He rear'd his frugal meat, but never bought :
A kid sometimes for festivals he slew ;
The choicer part was his sick neighbours' due:
Two bacon-flitches made his Sunday's cheer;
Some the poor had, and some out-lived the year:
For roots and herbage, (raised at hours to spare),
With humble milk, composed his usual fare.
(The poor man then was rich, and lived with glee;
Each barley-head untax'd, and daylight free :)
All had a part in all the rest could spare,
The common water, and the common air.
Meanwhile God's blessings made Eulogius
thrive,

The happiest, most contented man alive.
His conscience cheer'd him with a life well spent,
His prudence a superfluous something lent,
Which made the poor who took, and poor who

gave, content.

Alternate were his labours and his rest,
For ever blessing, and for ever blest.

Eusebius, hermit of a neighb'ring cell,

His brother Christian mark'd, and knew him well: With zeal unenvying, and with transport fired, Beheld him, praised him, loved him, and admired. "Then hear me, gracious Heaven, and grant my prayer;

Make yonder man the fav'rite of thy care:
Nourish the plant with thy celestial dew,
Like manna, let it fall, and still be new:
Expand the blossoms of his gen'rous mind,
Till the rich odour reaches half mankind.
Then may his soul its free-born range enjoy,
Give deed to will, and every power employ."
The hermit's prayer permitted, not approved ;
Soon in an higher sphere Eulogius moved.

One day, in turning some uncultured ground, (In hopes a freestone quarry might be found), His mattock met resistance, and behold

A casket burst, with di'monds fill'd, and gold.
He cramm'd his pockets with the precious store,
And every night review'd it o'er and o'er;
Till a gay conscious pride, unknown as yet,
Touch'd a vain heart, and taught it to forget:
And, what still more his stagg'ring virtue tried,
His mother, tut'ress of that virtue, died.

A neighb'ring matron, not unknown to fame, (Historians give her Teraminta's name),

The parent of the needy and distress'd,
With large demesnes and well saved treasure blest:
(For, like th' Egyptian prince, she hoarded store
To feed at periodic dearths the poor);
This matron, whiten'd with good works and age,
Approach'd the sabbath of her pilgrimage;
Her spirit to himself th' Almighty drew ;-
Breath'd on th' alembic, and exhaled the dew.
In souls prepared, the passage is a breath
From time t' eternity, from life to death.
But first, to make the poor her future care,
She left the good Eulogius for her heir.

Who but Eulogius now exults for joy? New thoughts, new hopes, new views his mind employ.

Pride push'd forth buds at every branching shoot,
And virtue shrunk almost beneath the root.
High raised on Fortune's hill, new Alps he spies,
O'ershoots the valley which beneath him lies,
Forgets the depths between, and travels with his
The tempter saw the danger in a trice, [eyes.
(For the man slidder'd upon Fortune's ice) :
And, having found a corpse, half dead, half warm,
Revived it, and assumed a courtier's form :
Swift to Thebaïs urged his airy flight;
And measured half the globe in half a night.

Libanius-like, he play'd the sophist's part,
And by soft marches stole upon the heart:
Maintain'd that station gave new birth to sense,
And call'd forth manners, courage, eloquence:
Then touch'd with sprightly dashes here and there,
(Correctly strong, yet seeming void of care),
The master-topic, which may most men move,
The charms of beauty and the joys of love!
Eulogius falter'd at the first alarms,
And soon the 'waken'd passions buzz'd to arms;
Nature the clam'rous bell of discord rung,
And vices from dark caverns swift upsprung.
So, when hell's monarch did his summons make,
The slumb'ring demons started from the lake.

And now, the treasure found, and matron's store,
Sought other objects than the tatter'd poor;
Part to humiliated Apicius went,

A part to gaming confessors was lent,
And part, O virtuous Thais, paid thy rent.
Poor folks have leisure hours to fast and pray;
Our rich man's bus'ness lay another way:
No farther intercourse with heaven had he,
But left good works to men of low degree:
Warm as himself pronounced each ragged man,
And bade distress to prosper as it can :
Till, grown obdurate by mere dint of time,
He deem'd all poor men rogues, and want a crime.
Fame, not contented with her broad highway,
Delights, for change, through private paths to stray;
And, wand'ring to the hermit's distant cell,
Vouchsafed Eulogius' history to tell.

At night a dream confirm'd the hermit more; He 'spied his friend on beds of roses laid :

* A famous Greek rhetorician in the fourth century, whose orations are still extant.

Round him a crowd of threat'ning furies stands, With instruments of vengeance in their hands.

He waked aghast : he tore his hair, And rent his sackcloth garments in despair; Walk'd to Constantinople, and inquired Of all he met; at length the house desired By chance he found, but no admission gain'd; A Thracian slave the porter's place maintain'd, (Sworn foe to thread-bare suppliants), and with pride

His master's presence, nay, his name, denied.

There walk'd Eusebius at the dawn of light, There walk'd at noon, and there he walk'dat night. In vain. At length, by Providence's care, He found the door unclosed, nor servants near. He enter'd, and through sev'ral rooms of state Pass'd gently; in the last Eulogius sat. Old man, good morrow, the gay courtier cried; God give you grace, my son, the sire replied : And then, in terms as moving and as strong, As clear, as ever fell from angel's tongue, Besought, reproved, exhorted, and condemn'd: Eulogius knew him, and, though known, contemn'd.

The hermit then assumed a bolder tone; His rage was kindled, and his patience gone. Without respect to titles or to place,

I call thee (adds he) miscreant to thy face.
My prayers drew down heaven's bounty on thy
head,

And in an evil hour my wishes sped.
Ingratitude's black curse thy steps attend,
Monster to God, and faithless to thy friend!
The hermit went

Back to Thebaïs full of discontent;
Saw his once-impious rashness more and more,
And, victim to convinced contrition, bore
With Christian thankfulness the marks he wore.
And then on bended knees with tears and sighs,
He thus invoked the Ruler of the skies :
"My late request, all-gracious Power, forgive!
And that yon miscreant may repent, and live,
Give him that poverty which suits him best,
And leave disgrace and grief to work the rest."
So pray'd the hermit, and with reason pray'd.—
Some plants the sunshine ask, and some the shade.
At night the nure-trees spread, but check their
bloom

At morn, and lose their verdure and perfume.
The virtues of most men will only blow,
Like coy auriculas, in Alpine snow :
Transplant them to the equinoctial line,
Their vigour sickens and their tints decline.

Meanwhile Eulogius, unabash'd and gay,
Pursued his courtly track without dismay :
Remorse was hoodwink`d, conscience charm'd away.
Reason the felon of herself was made,
And nature's substance hid by nature's shade!
Our fine man, now completed, quickly found
Congenial friends in Asiatic ground.
The advent'rous pilot in a single year
Learn'd his state cock-boat dext'rously to steer.

By other arts he learns the knack to thrive ; The most obsequious parasite alive : Chameleon of the court, and country too; Pays Cæsar's tax, but gives the mob their due; And makes it, in his conscience, the same thing To crown a tribune, or behead å king.

On less important days, he pass'd his time In virtuoso-ship, and crambo-rhyme : In gaming, jobbing, fiddling, painting, drinking, And ev'ry art of using time, but thinking. He gives the dinners of each upstart man, As costly, and luxurious, as he can ; Then weds an heiress of suburbian mold, Ugly as apes, but well endow'd with gold; There fortune gave him his full dose of strife, A scolding woman, and a jealous wife!

T' increase this load, some sycophant report Destroy'd his int'rest and good grace at court. At this one stroke the man look'd dead in law: His flatt'rers scamper, and his friends withdraw. And now (to shorten my disastrous tale) Storms of affronts pour'd in as thick as hail. Each scheme for safety mischievously sped, And the drawn sword hung o'er him by a thread. Child he had none. His wife with sorrow died; Few women can survive the loss of pride.

The Demon having tempted Eulogius to engage in rebel-
lion against his Prince, he is cast into prison.
Here, were it not too long, I might declare
The motives and successes of the war;
The prowess of the knights, their martial deeds,
Their swords, their shields, their surcoats, an
Till Belisarius at a single blow [their steeds;
Suppress'd the faction and repell'd the foe.
By a quick death the traitors he relieved;
Condemn'd, if taken; famish'd, if reprieved.

Now see Eulogius (who had all betray'd
Whate'er he knew) in loathsome dungeon laid:
A pris'ner, first of war, and then of state:
Rebel and traitor ask a double fate!
But good Justinian, whose exalted mind
(In spite of what Pirasmus urged,) inclined
To mercy, soon the forfeit-life forgave,
And freed it from the shackles of a slave.
Then spoke with mild, but in majestic strain,
Repent, and haste thee to Larissa's plain,
Or wander through the world, another Cain.
Thy lands and goods shall be the poor man's lot,
Or feed the orphans, you've so long forgot
Forsaken, helpless, recognised by none,
Proscribed Eulogius left the unprosp'rous town:
For succour at a thousand doors he knock'd;
Each heart was harden'd, and each door was lockd
A pilgrim's staff he bore, of humble thorn;
Pervious to winds his coat, and sadly torn:
Shoes he had none: a beggar gave a pair,
Who saw feet poorer than his own, and bare.
He drank the stream, on dew-berries he fed
And wildings harsh supplied the place of bread:
Thus homeward urged his solitary way;
(Four years had he been absent to a day.)

Fame through Thebaïs his arrival spread, Half his old friends reproach'd him, and half fled : Of help and common countenance bereft, No creature own'd him, but a dog he left. Compunction touch'd his soul, and, wiser made By bitter suff'rings, he resumed his trade: Thank'd Heav'n for want of power and want of pelf, That he had lost the world, and found himself. Conscience and charity revived their part, And true humility enrich'd the heart, While grace celestial with enliv'ning ray Beam'd forth, to gild the evening of his day.

His neighbours mark'd the change, and each man

strove

By slow degrees t' applaud him, and to love. So Peter, when his tim'rous guilt was o'er, Emerged, and stood twice firmer than before.

CONTENTMENT, INDUSTRY, AND ACQUIESCENCE
UNDER THE DIVINE WILL.
AN ODE.

WHY dwells my unoffended eye

On yon blank desert's trackless waste;
All dreary earth, or cheerless sky,
Like ocean wild, and bleak, and vast?
There Lysidor's enamour'd reed
Ne'er taught the plains Eudosia's praise :
There herds were rarely known to feed,
Or birds to sing, or flocks to graze.
Yet does my soul complacence find;
All, all from thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,
Corrector of the mind!

Tremble, and yonder Alp behold,
Where half-dead nature gasps below,
Victim of everlasting cold,
Entomb'd alive in endless snow.
The northern side is horror all ;
Against the southern Phoebus plays;
In vain th' innoxious glimm'rings fall,
The frost outlives, outshines the rays.
Yet consolation still I find ;
And all from thee,
Supremely gracious Deity,
Corrector of the mind!

For nature rarely form'd a soil
Where diligence subsistence wants:
Exert but care, nor spare the toil,
And all beyond, th' Almighty grants.
Each earth at length to culture yields,
Each earth its own manure contains:
Thus the Corycian nurst his fields,

Heav'n gave th' increase, and he the pains.
Th' industrious peace and plenty find;
All due to thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,
Composer of the mind!

Scipio sought virtue in his prime,
And, having early gain'd the prize,
Stole from th' ungrateful world in time,
Contented to be low and wise!

He served the state with zeal and force,
And then with dignity retired;
Dismounting from th' unruly horse,
To rule himself, as sense required,
Without a sigh, he pow'r resign'd.-
All, all from thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,
Corrector of the mind!

When Diocletian sought repose,
Cloy'd and fatigued with nauseous pow'r,
He left his empire to his foes,

For fools t' admire, and rogues devour :
Rich in his poverty, he bought
Retirement's innocence and health,
With his own hands the monarch wrought,
And changed a throne for Ceres' wealth.
Toil sooth'd his cares, his blood refined-
And all from thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,
Composer of the mind!

He, who had ruled the world, exchanged
His sceptre for the peasant's spade,
Postponing (as through groves he ranged,)
Court splendour to the rural shade.
Child of his hand, th' engrafted thorn
More than the victor laurel pleased:
Heart's-ease, and meadow-sweet, adorn
The brow, from civic garlands eased.
Fortune, however poor, was kind.-
All, all from thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,
Corrector of the mind!

Thus Charles, with justice styled the great
For valour, piety, and laws;

Resign'd two empires to retreat,

And from a throne to shades withdraws; In vain (to sooth a monarch's pride,)

His yoke the willing Persian bore :

In vain the Saracen complied,

And fierce Northumbrians stain'd with gore. One Gallic farm his cares confined;

And all from thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,

Composer of the mind!

Observant of th' almighty will,

Prescient in faith, and pleased with toil, Abram Chaldea left, to till

The moss-grown Haran's flinty soil :
Hydras of thorns absorb'd his gain,
The commonwealth of weeds rebell'd,
But labour tamed th' ungrateful plain,
And famine was by art repell'd;
Patience made churlish nature kind.-
All, all from thee,

Supremely gracious Deity,
Corrector of the mind!

LED by the jocund train of vernal hours

And vernal airs, up rose the gentle May; Blushing she rose, and blushing rose the flow'rs That sprung spontaneous in her genial ray. Herlocks with heaven's ambrosial dews were bright, And am'rous zephyrs flutter'd on her breast: With ev'ry shifting gleam of morning light, The colours shifted of her rainbow vest.

Imperial ensigns graced her smiling form,

A golden key and golden wand she bore; This charms to peace each sullen eastern storm, And that unlocks the summer's copious store.

Onward in conscious majesty she came,

The grateful honours of mankind to taste : To gather fairest wreaths of future fame,

And blend fresh triumphs with her glories past.

Vain hope! no more in choral bands unite
Her virgin vot'ries, and at early dawn,
Sacred to May and love's mysterious rite,
Brush the light dew-drops from the spangled lawn.

To her no more Augusta's wealthy pride
Pours the full tribute from Potosi's mine:
Nor fresh-blown garlands village maids provide,
A purer off'ring at her rustic shrine.

No more the Maypole's verdant height around
To valour's games th' ambitious youth advance;
No merry bells and tabor's sprightlier sound

Wake the loud carol, and the sportive dance.

Sudden in pensive sadness droop'd her head,

Faint on her cheeks the blushing crimson died— "O! chaste victorious triumphs, whither fied! My maiden honours, whither gone?" she cried.

Ah! once to fame and bright dominion born,
The earth and smiling ocean saw me rise,
With time coeval and the star of morn,

The first, the fairest daughter of the skies.
Then, when at heaven's prolific mandate sprung
The radiant beam of new-created day,
Celestial harps, to airs of triumph strung,
Hail'd the glad dawn, and angels call'd me May.
Space in her empty regions heard the sound,
And hills, and dales, and rocks, and valleys rung;
The sun exulted in his glorious round,

And shouting planets in their courses sung. For ever then I led the constant year; Saw youth, and joy, and love's enchanting wiles; Saw the mild graces in my train appear,

And infant beauty brighten in my smiles. No Winter frown'd. In sweet embrace allied, Three sister seasons danced th' eternal green; And Spring's retiring softness gently vied With Autumn's blush, and Summer's lofty mien. Too soon, when man profaned the blessings giv'n, And vengeance arm'd to blot a guilty age, With bright Astrea to my native heav'n I fled, and flying saw the deluge rage;

Saw bursting clouds eclipse the noontide beams, While sounding billows from the mountains roll'd, With bitter waves polluting all my streams,

My nectar'd streams, that flow'd on sands of gold.

Then vanish'd many a sea-girt isle and grove,

Their forests floating on the watʼry plain : Then, famed for arts and laws derived from Jove, My Atalantis sunk beneath the main.

No longer bloom'd primæval Eden's bow'rs,

Nor guardian dragons watch'd th' Hesperian steep:

With all their fountains, fragrant fruits and flow'rs,
Torn from the continent to glut the deep.

No more to dwell in sylvan scenes I deign'd,
Yet oft descending to the languid earth,
With quick'ning powers the fainting mass sus-

tain'd,

And waked her slumb'ring atoms into birth.

And ev'ry echo taught my raptured name,

And ev'ry virgin breath'd her am'rous vows, And precious wreaths of rich immortal fame, Shower'd by the Muses, crown'd by lofty brows. But chief in Europe, and in Europe's pride,

My Albion's favour'd realms, I rose adored; And pour'd my wealth, to other climes denied ; From Amalthea's horn with plenty stored.

Ah me! for now a younger rival claims
My ravish'd honours, and to her belong
My choral dances, and victorious games,
To her my garlands and triumphal song.

O say what yet untasted beauties flow,
What purer joys await her gentler reign?
Do lilies fairer, vi'lets sweeter blow?

And warbles Philomel a softer strain?

Do morning suns in ruddier glory rise?

Does ev'ning fan her with serener gales? Do clouds drop fatness from the wealthier skies, Or wantons plenty in her happier vales? Ah! no: the blunted beams of dawning light Skirt the pale orient with uncertain day; And Cynthia, riding on the car of night, Through clouds embattled faintly wings her way. Pale, immature, the blighted verdure springs, Nor mounting juices feed the swelling flower; Mute all the groves, nor Philomela sings

When silence listens at the midnight hour. Nor wonder, man, that nature's bashful face, And op'ning charms her rude embraces fear: Is she not sprung from April's wayward race, The sickly daughter of th' unripen'd year? With show'rs and sunshine in her fickle eyes, With hollow smiles proclaiming treach❜rous peace, With blushes, harb'ring, in their thin disguise, The blasts that riot on the Spring's increase?

Is this the fair invested with my spoil

By Europe's laws, and senates' stern command? Ungen'rous Europe! let me fly thy soil, And waft my treasures to a grateful land ;

Again revive, on Asia's drooping shore,

My Daphne's groves, or Lycia's ancient plain; Again to Afric's sultry sands restore

Embow'ring shades, and Lybian Ammon's fane: Or haste to northern Zembla's savage coast, There hush to silence elemental strife; Brood o'er the regions of eternal frost,

And swell her barren womb with heat and life. Then Britain-Here she ceased. Indignant grief, And parting pangs, her falt ring tongue suppress'd: Veil'd in an amber cloud she sought relief, And tears and silent anguish told the rest.

SONG TO **

WHAT! bid me seek another fair

In untried paths of female wiles? And posies weave of other hair,

And bask secure in other smiles? Thy friendly stars no longer prize, And light my course by other eyes? Ah no!-my dying lips shall close,

Unalter'd love, as faith, professing; Nor praising him who life bestows,

Forget who makes that gift a blessing. My last address to Heaven is due ; The last but one is all-to you.