O’erlook'd, seen double, by the fool, and wise. toil, We ought to blame the culture , not the soil : Fix'd to no spot is Happiness sincere; 'Tis no where to be found, or ev'ry where ; Tis never to be bought, but always free, And, fled from monarchs, St. John! dwells with thee. Those call it Pleasure, and Contentment these ;' Who thus define it, say they more or less Take Nature's path, and mad opinions leave; All states can reach it, and all heads conceive Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell; There needs but thinking right, and meaning well; And mourn our various portions as we please, Equal is Common Sense, and Common Ease. Remember, Man, «the Universal Cause Some are, Abstract what others feel, what others think, and must be , greater than the rest, Fortune her gifts may variously dispose , And these be happy cail'd, unhappy those ; But Heav'n's just balance equal will appear, While those are plac'd in Hope, and these in Fear; Not present good or ill, the joy or curse, But future views of better, or of worse. Oh sons of earth; attempt ye still to rise, By mountains pil'd on mountains, to the skies? Heav'n still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. Know, all the good that individuals find , Or God and Nature meant to mere mankind, Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of Sense, Lie in three words, Health, Peace, and Competence. POPE 1 CH A P. X V I. as more · On Virtue. K xow thou this truth (enongh for man to know) « Virtue alone is happiness below. The only point where human bliss stands still, And tastes the good without the fall to ill; Where only Merit constant pay receives , Is blest in what it takes, and what it gives; The joy unequall'd if it's end it gain, And'if it lose, attended with no pain : Without satiety, tho' e'er so bless'd, And but more relish'd the distress'd; The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears, Less pleasing far than Virtue's very tears : Good, from each object, from each place acquir'd, For ever exercis'd, yet never tird; Never elated, while one man's oppres'd; Never dejected while another's bless'd ; And where no wants, no wishes can remain, Since but to wish more Virtue, is to gain. See the sole bliss Heav'n could on all bestow! Which who but feels can taste , but thinks can know: Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind, The bad must miss; the good , untaught, will find; Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, But looks thro' Nature, up to Nature's God: Pursues that Chain which links th’immense design, Joins heav'n and earth, and mortal and divine; Sees, that no Being any bliss can know, But touches some above, and some below; Learns, from this union of the rising whole, The first, last purpose of the human soul; And knows where Faith, Law, Morals, all began, All end, in Love of God, and Love of Man. For him alone, Hope leads from goal to goal, And opens still, and opens on his soul; 'Till lengthen'd on to Faith , and unconfin'd, It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind. He sees why Nature plants in man alone Hope of known bliss, and Faith in bliss unknown: (Nature, whose dictates to no other kind Are given in vain, but what they seek they find) Wise is her present; she connects in this His greatest Virtue with his greatest bliss; At once his own bright prospect to be blest, And strongest motive to assist the rest. Self-love thus push'd to social, to divine , Gives thee to make thy neighbour's blessing thine. Is this too little for the boundless heart? Extend it, let thy enemies have part: Grasp the whole worlds of Reason, Life, and Sense, In one close system of benevolence: Happier as kinder , in whate'er degree, And height of Bliss but height of Charity. God loves from Whole to Parts : But human soul Must rise from Individual to the Whole. Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake; The centre mov'd a circle strait succeeds Another, still, and still another spreads ; Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace ; His country next; and next all human race; Wide and more wide, th' o'erflowings of the mind Take every creature in , of ev'ry kind; Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest, And Heav'n beholds it's image in his breast. Pore. C Η Α Ρ. Χ ν Ι Ι. On Versification. Many by Numbers judge a Poet's song ; And smooth or rough, with them is right or wrong; In the bright Muse tho' thousand charms conspire, Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire; Who haunt Parnassus but to please their Not mend their minds; as some to church repair Not for the doctrine, but the music there. These equal syllables alone require, ear } Tho' oft the ear the open vowels tire ; along. join. True ease in writing comes from art not chance, As those more easiest who have learn'd to dance. 'Tis not enough, no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense ; Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse rough verse should like the torrentroar: When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow;. Not when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th’ unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus' vary!d lays surprise, And bid alternate passions'fall and rise! While at each change, the son of Libyan Jove Now burns with glory, and then melts with love; Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow! Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found , And the world's victor stoodsubdu'd by sound!Pope, |