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Blifs there is none, but unprecarious blifs:
That is the gem; fell all, and purchase that.
Why go a-begging to contingencies,
Not gain'd with eafe, nor tafely lov'd if gain'd?
At good fortuitous draw back, and paufe;
Sufpect it; what thou canft enfure, enjoy;
And nought but what thou giv ft thyself is fure.
Realon perpetuates joy that reafon gives,
And makes it as immortal as herself:
To mortals nought immortal but their worth.

§ 232. Worth. YOUNG.

WORTH, confcious worth! fhould abfolutely

reign;

And other joys afk leave for their approach;
Nor, unexamin'd, ever leave obtain.
Thou art all anarchy; a mob of joys
Wage war, and perifh in inteftine broils;
Not the leaft promife of eternal peace!
No bofom-comfort, or unborrow'd blifs!

Thy thoughts are vagabonds; all outward-bound, 'Mid fands, and rocks, and forms, to cruize for pleasure;

If gain'd.dearbought; and better mifs'd than gain'd,
Much pain must expiate what much pain procur'd.
Fancy and fenfe, from an infected thore,
Thy cargo bring; and peftilence the prize.
Then fuch thy thirst (infatiable thirst!
By fond indulgence but inflam'd the more)
Fancy ftill cruizes when poor fenfe is tir'd.

233 Picture of a good Man. YOUNG. SOME angel guide my pencil, while I draw,

What nothing less than angel can exceed;
A man ch earth devoted to the skies,
Like fhips at fea, while in, above the world.

With afpe&t mild, and clevated eye,
Behold him seated on a mount ferene,
Above the fogs of fenfe, and pallion's form;
All the black cares and tumults of this life,
Like harmlofs thunders, breaking at his feet,
Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
Earth's genuine fons, the fceptred, and the flave,
A mingled mob! a wand'ring herd! he fees,
Bewilder'd in the vale; in all unlike!
His full reverfe in all! What higher praife,
What furonger demonftration of the right?

The prefent all their care, the future his. When public welfue calls, or private want, They give to fame; his bounty he conceals. Their virtues varnith nature, his exalt. Mankind's eftcem they court; and he, his own. Theirs the wild chace of falfe felicities; His, the compos'd poffeffion of the true. Alike throughout is his confiftent piece, All of one colour and an even thread; While party-colour'd fhreds of happiness, With hideous gaps between, patch up for them A madman's robe; each puff of fortune blows The tatters by, and thews their naked.cls.

He fees with other eyes than theirs: where they
Behold a fun, he fpies a Deity;
What makes them only mile, makes him adore.
Where they fee mountains, he but atoms fees;
An empire in his balance weighs a grain.
They things terreftrial worship as divine;
His hopes immortal blow them by, as duft
That dims his fight, and fhortens his furvey,
Which longs, in Infinite, to lofe all bound."
Titles and honours (if they prove his fate)
He lays afide to find his dignity;

No dignity they find in aught befides.
They triumph in externals (which conceal

Man's real glory) proud of an eclipfe.
Himfelf too much he prizes to be proud;
And nothing thinks fo great in man, as man.
Too dear he holds his int'reft, to neglect
Another's welfare, or his right invade;
Their int'reft, like a lion, lives on prey.
They kindle at the fhadow of a wrong;
Nor ftoops to think his injurer his foc; [peace.
Wrong he fuftains with temper, looks on heaven,
Nought but what wounds his virtue wounds his

A cover'd heart their character defends;
A cover'd heart denies lim half his praise.
With nakedness his innocence agaces!
While their broad foliage teftifies their fall!
Their no-joys end where his full feaft begins;
His joys create, theirs murder, future blifs.
To triumph in existence, his alone;
And his alone, triumphantly to think
His true existence is not yet begun.
His glorious courfe was yesterday complete;
Death then was welcome, yet life ftill is fweet.

$234. Night. YOUNG.

O majeftic Night!

Nature's great anceftor! day's elder born
And fated to furvive the tranfient fun!
By mortals and immortals feen with awe!
A ftarry crown thy raven brow adorns,
An azure zone thy waift; clouds, in heaven's loom
In ample folds of drapery divine,
Wrought through varieties of fhape and fhade,

Thy flowing mantle form; and, heaven throughout,
Voluminoully pour thy pompous train.

$235. The Contraft. YOUNG. MOROSE is funk with fhaine whene'er fur In linen clean, or peruke undifquis'd. [pris'd No fublunary chance his veftments fear; Valued, like leopards, as their spots appear. A fam'd furtout he wears, which once was blue, And his foot fwims in a capacious fhoe: Ore day his wife (for who can wives reclaim) Levell'd her barb'reus needle at his fame: But open force was vain; by night she went, And, while he fiept, furpris'd the darling rent: Where yawn'd the frieze is now become a doubt; "And glory, at one entrance, quite shut out *."

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He fcorns Florello, and Florello him; This hates the filthy creature; that, the prim: Thus, in each other, both thefe fools defpife Their own dear felves, with undifcerning eyes: Their methods various, but alike their aim; The floven and the fopling are the fame.

$236. Reflection on Death. YOUNG.

There, bleft with health, with bus nefs unperThis life we relish, and enfure the next. [plex'd, There too the Muses sport; these numbers free, Pierian Eaftbury! I owe to thee.

§ 238. The Day of Judgment. YOUNG. LO' the wide theatre, whose ample space Muft entertain the whole of human race, At Heaven's all-pow'rful edict is prepar'd,

W Here the prime actors of the last year's feene, And fenc'd around with an immortal guard.

Their port fo proud, their buskin, and their
plume?

How many fleep who kept the world awake
With luftre, and with noite! Has death proclaim'd
A truce, and hung his fated lance on high?
"Tis brandish'd ftill; nor fhall the prefent year
Be more tenacious of her human leaf,
Or fpread of feeble life a thinner fail.

But needlefs monuments to wake the thought;
Life's gayeft fcenes fpeak man's mortality;
Though in a ftyle more florid, full as plain
As maufoleums, pyramids, and tombs.
What are our nobleft ornaments, but deaths
Turn'd flatterers of life, in paint or marble,
The well-ftain'd canvas, or the featur'd ftone ?
Our fathers grace, or rather haunt, the fcene.
Joy peoples her pavilion from the dead.

Profeft diverfions! cannot thefe efcape?" Far from it: thefe prefent us with a shroud, And talk of death, like garlands o'er a grave. As fome bold plunderers, for buried wealth, We ranfack tombs for paftime; from the dust Call up the fleeping hero; bid him tread The fcene for our amufement: how like gods We fit; and, wrapt in immortality, Shed gen'rous tears on wretches born to die; Their fate deploring, to forget our own! What all the pomps and triumphs of our lives But legacies in bloßiom? Our lean foil, Luxuriant grown, and rank in vanities, From friends interr'd beneath; a rich manure! Like other worms, we banquet on the dead; Like other worms, fhall we crawl on, nor know Our prefent frailties, or approaching fate?

Lorenzo, fuch the glories of the world! What is the world itfelf? Thy world-a grave. Where is the duft that has not been alive? The fpade, the plough, disturb our ancestors; From human mould we reap.our daily bread. The globe around earth's hollow furface thakes, And is the ceiling of her fleeping fons. O'er devaftation we blind revels keep; Whole buried towns fupport the dancer's heel.

$237. Solitude. YOUNG.

SACRED folitude! divine retreat! O Choice of the Prudent! envy of the Great! By thy pure ftream, or in thy waving fhade, We court fair wildom, that celeftial inaid: The genuine offspring of her lov'd embrace (Strangers on earth!) are innocence and peace: There, from the ways of inen laid fafe athore, We fimile to hear the diftant tempeft rear;

Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds, o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below:
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng:
And ev'ry age and nation pours along;
Adam falutes his youngeft fon; no fign
Of all thofe ages which their births disjoin.

How empty learning, and how vain is art, But as it mends the life, and guides the heart'

What volumes have been fwell'd, what time been
To fix a hero's birth-day or defcent? [fpent,
What joy muft it now yield, what rapture raife,
To fee the glorious race of ancient days?
To greet thofe worthies who perhaps have flood
Illuftrious on record before the flood?
Alas! a nearer care your foul demands:
Cafar un-noted in your prefence stands.

How vaft the concourfe! not in number more
The waves that break on the refounding fhore.
The leaves that tremble in the fhady grove,
The lamps that gild the fpangled vaults above;
Thofe overwhelming armies, whose command
Said to one empire, Fall; another, Stand: [dawa
Whofe rear lay wrapt in night, while breaking
Rous'd the broad front, and call'd the battle on;
Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud Canna's field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Romé to yield,
(Another blow had broke the Fates decree,
And earth had wanted her fourth monarchy)
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia's hoft,
They all are here, and here they all are loft:
Their millions fwell to be difcern'd in vain,
Loft as a billow in th' unbounded main.

This echoing voice now rends the yielding air "For judgment, judgment, fons of men, prepare"" Earth thakes anew; I hear her groaus profound, And hell thro' all her trembling realms refound.

Whoe'er thou art, thou greateft pow'r of earth, Bleft with moft equal planets at thy birth, Whole valour drew the moft fuccefsful fword, Moft realms united in one common lord; Who on the day of triumph, saidft, Be thine The kics, Jehovah, all this world is mine; Dare not to lift thine eye-Alas, my mufe! How art thou loft! what numbers canft thou chufe' A fudden blush inflames the waving sky, And now the crimson curtains open fly; Lo! far within, and far above all height, Where heaven's great Sov'reign reigns in worlds of light,

Whence nature He informs, and with one ray Shot from his eye, does all her works furvey, Creates,fupports, confounds! where time andplace, Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace.

Wait humbly at the footftool of their God,
And move obedient at his awful nod;
Whence he beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-fufpended ball
(Speck of creation!): if he pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and 'tis eternal death.

Thence iffuing I behold (but mortal fight
Suftains not fuch a rushing fea of light!)
1 ie, on an empyreal flying throne
Sublimely rais'd, Heaven's everlafting Son;
Crown'd with that majefty which form'd the
world,

Ard the grand rebel flaming downward hurl'd.
Virtue, dominion, praife, omnipotence,
Support the train of their triumphant Prince.
A zoce, beyond the thought of angels bright,
Around him, like the zodiac, winds its light.
Night fhades the folemn arches of his brows,
And in his check the purple morning glows.
Where'er ferenc he turns propitious eyes,
Or we expect, or find, a paradise :

Thefe an immeafurable arch fupport,
The grand tribunal of this awful court.
Sheets of bright azure form the purest sky,
Stream from the cryftal arch, and round the co-
lumns fly.

Death, wrapt in chains, low at the bafis lies,
And on the point of his own arrow dies.

Here high enthron'd th' eternal Judge is plac'd,
With all the grandeur of his Godhead grac'd;
Stars on his robes in beauteous order meet,
And the fun burns beneath his awful feet.

Now an archangel eminently bright,
From off his filver ftaff, of wondrous height,
Unfurls the Chriftian flag, which waving flies,
And thuts and opens more than half the fkies:
The Crofs fo ftrong a red, it sheds a stain
Where'er it floats, on carth, and air, and main;
Flushes the hill, and fets on fire the wood,
And turns the deep-dyed ocean into blood.
Oh formidable Glory! dreadful bright!
Refulgent torture to the guilty fight!
Ah turn, unwary mufe, nor dare reveal
What horrid thoughts with the polluted dwell.
Say not (to make the Sun fhrink in his beam)
Dare not affirm, they with it all a dream;
With or their fouls may with their limbs decay,
Or God be fpoil'd of his eternal fway.
But rather, if thou know'ft the means, unfeld
How they with trapfport might the fcene behold.

But if rientment reddens their mild beams,
The Eden kindles, and the world's in flames.
On one hand, knowledge fhines in pureft light;
On onc, the fword of juftice, fiercely bright.
Now bend the knee in fport, prefent the reed;
Now tell the fcourg'd Impostor he shall bleed!
Thus glorious, thro' the courts of heaven, the
Of life and death eternal bends his courfe; [fource
Loud thunders round him roll, and lightnings play;
Th' angelic hoft is rang'd in bright array:
Some touch the ftring, fome ftrike the foundingfhell,
And mingling voices in rich concert fwell;
Voices feraphic bleft with such a strain,
Could Satan hear, he were a god again.
Triumphant King of Glory! Soul of bliss!
What a ftupendous turn of fate is this!
O! whither art thou rais'd above the fcorn
And indigence of him in Bethlem born;
A needlefs, helplefs, unaccounted gueft,
And but a fecond to the fodder'd beast!
How chang'd from him who, meekly proftrate laid,
Vouchsaf'd to wash the feet himself had made !
From him who was betray'd, forfook, denied,
Wept, languifh'd, pray'd, bled, thirsted, groan'd,"
and died;

Hung, pierc'd and bare, infulted by the foe;

AH heaven in tears above, earth unconcern'd below!
And was't enough to bid the Sun retire?
Why did not Nature at thy groan expire ?
I fee, I hear, I feel, the pangs divine;
The world is vanith'd-I am wholly thine.
Miftaken Caiaphas! ah! which blafphem'd,
Thou or thy Pris'ner? which fhall be condemn'd:
Well might'ft thou rend thy garments, well ex-
Deep are the horrors of eternal flame! [claim;
But God is good; 'tis wondrous all! Ev'n He
Thou gav't to death, fhame, torture, died for thee.
Now the defcending triumph ftops its flight
From earth full twice a planetary height.
There all the clouds condens'd two col mas raif
Distinct with orient veins, and golden blaze:
One fix'd on carth, and one in fea; and round
Its ample foot the fwelling billows found.

Ah how but by Repentance-by a mind Quick and fevere its own offence to find? By tears, and groans, and never-ccafing care, And all the pious violence of pray'r Thus then, with fervency till now unknown, I caft my heart before th' eternal thione, In this great temple, which the fkies furround, For homage to its Lord a narrow bound: [weigh, "O Thou! whofe balance does the mountains "Whofe will the wild tumultuous feas obey, "Whofe breath can turn thofe wat 'ry worlds to "flame,

That fame to tempeft, and that tempeft tame; "Earth's meaneft fon, all trembling, proftrate "falls,

And on the bounties of thy goodness calls. "O! give the winds all paft offence to fweep,. "To fcatter wide, or bury in the deep:

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Thy pow'r, my weaknefs, may I ever fee, "And wholly dedicate my foul to thee! Reign o'er my will; my paffions ebb and flow

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At thy command, nor human motive know!
If anger boil, let anger be my praife,
And fin the graceful indignation raife.
My love be warm to fuccour the diftrefs'd,
And lift the burden from the foul opprefs'd.
O may my understanding ever read
This glorious volume, whicl. thywifdom made!
Who ducks the maiden Spring with flow'ry
"pride?

Who calls forth Summer like a sparkling bride?
Who joys the mother Autumn's bed to crown?
And bids old Winter lay her honours down?
Not the great Ottoman, or greater Czar,
Not Europe's arbitreis of peace and war.

K 2

"May

"May fea and land, and earth and heaven be join'd, | And shew the paths that lead aftray "To bring th' eternal Author to my mind! "When oceans roar, or awful thunders toll, "May thoughts of thy diead vengeance thake "my soul!

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"When earth's in bloom, or planets proudly fhine, "Adore, my heart, the Majefty divine! "Thro' ev'ry fcene of life, or peace, or war, Plenty, or want, thy glory be my care! "Shine we in arms, or fing beneath our vine? "Thine is the vintage, and the conqueft thine: Thy pleature points the thaf and bends the bow, "The clufter blafts, or bids it brightly glow"'Tis thou that lead'ft our pow'rful armies forth, "And giv't great Anne thy fceptre o er the netth. "Grant I may ever, at the morning ray, "Open with pray'r the confecrated day; "Tune thy great praife, and bid my foul arife, "And with the mounting fun afcend the ikies! As that advances, let my zeal improve, "And glow with ardour of confummate love; "Nor confe at eve, but with the fetting fan "My endlefs worthip fhall be fill begun.

"And, ch, permit the gloom of folemn night "To facred thought may forcibly invite. "When this world's fhut, and awful planets rife, "Call on our minds, and raife them to the skies: "Compfe our fouls with a lefs dazzling fht, "And in wall nature in a milder light; "How ev ry boit'rous thought in calmns fubfides; "How the imooth'd spirit i' to goodness glides! "O how divine, to tread the milky way "To the bright palace of the Lord of day! "His court admire, or for his favour fae, "Or leagues of friendship with his faints renew! "Pleas'd to look down, and fee the world aticep, "While I long vigils to its Founder keep!

pint

"Canft thou not thale the centre: Chcontroul, "Subdue by force, the rebel ia my foul! "Thou, who cantt till the raging of the flood, "Reftrain the various tumults of my blood; "Teach me, with equal firmnefs, to sustain "Alluring picature, and affaulting pain. O may 1 for Thee in cach defire, "And with ftrong faith foment the holy fire! "Stretch out my foul in hope, and graip the prize "Which in Eternity's deep bofom lies! "At the Great Day of recompence behold, "Devoid of fear, the fatal book unfold! Then, wafted upward to the blissful seat, From age to age my grateful fong repeat; My Light, my Life, my God, my Saviour fee, "And rival angels in the praife of Thee !"

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The wand ring nymph from wildom's way.
I flatter none. The great and good
Are by their actions understood;
Your monument if actions raife,
Shall I deface by idle praise ?
I echo not the voice of Fame;
That dwells delighted on your name:
Her friendly tale, however true,
Were Alatt'ry, if I told it you.

The proud, the envious, and the vain,
The jilt, the prude, demand my ftrain;
To thefe, detefting praife, I write,

nd vent in charity my ipite:
With friendly hand I hold the glafs
To all, promifcuous, as they pats:
Should folly there her likeness view,
I fret not that the mirror's true;
If the fantastic form offend,
I made it not, but would amend.

Virtue, in ev'ry clime and age,
Spurns at the folly-foothing page;
While fatire, that ofends the car'
Of vice and paffion, pleases her.

Premifing this, your anger spare;
And claim the fable you who dare.

The birds in place, by fictions prefs'd,
To Jupiter their pray'rs addrefs'd:
By fpecious lyes the ftate was vex'd
Their counfels libellers perplex'd;
They begg'd (to ftop feditious tongues)
A gacious hearing of their wrongs.
Jove grants the fuit. The Eagle fate
Decider of the grand debate.

The Pye, to truft and pow'r preferr'd,
Demands permiffion to be heard.
Says he, Prolixity of phrafe

You know I hate. This libel fays,
"Some birds there are, who, prone to noife,
"Are hir'd to filence wildom's voice;
"And, kill'd to chatter cut the hour,
"Rife by their emptinefs to pow'r."
That this is aim'd direct at me,
No doubt you'll readily agree;
Yet well this fage affembly knows,
By paits to government I rofe.
My prudent counfels prop the fate;
Magpies were never known to prate.

The Kite role up. His honeft heart
In virtue's fufferings bore a part.
That there were birds of prey he knew;
So far the libeller faid true :

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Voracious, bold, to rapine prone, "Who knew no at reft but their own; "Who hov'ring o'er the farmer's yard, This might be true; but, if applied "Nor pigeen, chick, nor duckling fpar'd."

To him, in troth the flanderer lved.
Since ignorance then might be misled,
Such things, he thought, were beft unfaid.
The Crow was vex'd. As vefter-morn
He flew across the new-fown corn,
A fcreaming boy was fct for pay,
He know, to drive the crows away;

Scandal

Scandal had found him out in turn,

And buzz'd abroad that crows love corn.
The Owl arofe with folemn face,
And thus harangued upon the cate:
That magpies plate, it may be true;
A kite may be veracious too;
Crows fometimes deat in new-fown peafe;
He libels not, who ftrikes at thefe :

The lander's here-" But there are birds, "Whofe wildom lics in looks, not words; "Blund'rers, who level in the dark,

And always fhoot befide the mark.”
He names not me; but there are hints,
Which manifeft at whom he fquints;
I were indeed tha. blund'ring fowl,
To question if he meant an owl.

Ye wretches, hence! the Eagle crics,
'Tis confcience, confcience that applies;
The virtuous mind takes no alarm,
Secur'd by innocence from harm;
While gubit, and his affuciate fear,

Are itartled at the palling air.

Good-natur'd mirth, an open heart,
And looks unfkill'd in any art;
Humility enough to own

The frailties which a friend makes known,
And decent pride enough to know
The worth that virtue can beftow.

Thefe are the charms which ne'er decay, Though youth and beauty fade away; And time, which all things elfe removes, Still heightens virtue, and improves.

You'll frown, and afk, To what intent This blunt addrefs to you is fent? I'll ipare the queftion, and confefs I'd praife you, if I lov'd you lefs. But rail, be angry, or complain, I will be rude while you are vain. Beneath a lion's peaceful reign, When beafts met friendly on the plain, A Panther of majestic port (The vaineft female of the court) With fpotted skin, and eyes of fire, Fill'd every bofom with defire.

Where'er the mov'd, a fervile crowd

§ 240. Fable II. The Paniber, the Horfe, and Of fawning creatures cring'd and bow'd :

other Beafs.

THE man who fecks to win the fair
(So cuftom favs) must truth forbear;
Muft fawn and hatter, cringe and lye,
And raile the goddess to the iky.
For truth is hateful to her car;
A rudeness which the cannot bear.
A radeneis! Yes. I fpeak my thoughts;
For truth upbraids her with her faults.
How wretched, Chloe, then ain I,
Who love you, and yet cannot lye!
And fill, to make you lefs my friend,
I ftrive your errors to amend !
But thall the fenfelefs fop impart
The torteft paffion to your heart;
While he, who tells you honest truth,
And points to happinefs your youth,
Determines, by his care, his lot,
And lives neglected and forgot?
Truft me, my dear, with greater cafe
Your tafte for flatt'ry I could please;
And fimiles in each dull line,

Like glow-worms in the dark, fhould shine.
What if I fay your lips difclefe
The fiethnels of the op'ning rofe?
Or that your cheeks are beds of flow'rs,

pen'd by refreshing fhow'rs?

Yet certain as tiefe flow'rs fhall fade,
Time offry beauty will invade.
The butterfly of various hue,

More than the How'r, resembles you;
Vair, flutt'ring, fickle, bufy thing,
To pleasure ever on the wing,
Gally

coquetting for an hour,

To die and ne'er be thought of more.
Would you the bloom of youth fhould laft?
Tis virtue that must bind it faft;

An eafy carriage, wholly free

From four referve, or levity;

Affemblies ev'ry week the held

(Like modern belles) with coxcombs fill'd;
Where noife, and nonfenfe, and grimace,
And lyes, and fcandal, fill'd the place.
Behold the gay fantastic thing
Encircled by the fpacious ring!
Low-bowing, with important look,
As first in rank, the Monkey spoke :
"Gad take me, madam! but I fwear,
"No angel ever look'd fo fair:
"Forgive my rudenefs, but I vow
"You were not quite divine till now;
"Thofe limbs that fhape! and then thofe eyes!
"O close them, or the gazer dies !'

Nay, gentle pug, for goodnefs hufh,
I vow and fwear you make me bluth;
I fhall be angry at this rate;
'Tis fo like flatt'ry, which I hate.

The Fox, in deeper cunning vers'd,
The beauties of her mind rehears'd,
And talk'd of knowledge, tafte, and fenfe,
To which the fair have vaft pretence !
Yet well he knew them always vain
Of what they ftrive not to attain;
And play'd fo cunningly his part,
That pug was rivall'd in his art.

The goat avow'd his am'rous flame,
And burnt-for what he durft not name;
Yet hop'd a meeting in the wood
Might make his meaning understood.
Half

angry at the bold addrefs,
She frown'd; but yet the muft confefs
Such beauties might inflame his blood,
But ftill his phrafe was fomewhat rude.

The Hog her neatnefs much admir'd;
The formal Afs her fwiftnefs fir'd:
While all to feed her folly ftrove,
And by their praifes fhar'd her love.

The Horie, whofe gen'rous heart difdain'd
Applaufe by fervile fiatt'ry gain'd,

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