b

Empire.] It was generally believ'd in Rome, that CESAR thought BRUTUS the fittest Man to fucceed him; which therefore excufes BRUTUS fo far, as it is a Proof of his preferring the good of the Common-wealth not only to his best Friend, but to the highest Temptation of Interest and Ambition that could poflibly be laid in any Man's way.

THE

THE

RAPTURE.

I

Yield, I yield, and can no longer stay

My eager Thoughts, that force themselves away?
Sure, none infpir'd (whose Heat transports 'em still
Above their Reason, and beyond their Will)
Can firrn against the strong Impulse remain :
Censure it self were not fo fharp a Pain.
Let vulgar Minds submit to vulgar Sway ;
What Ignorance fhall think, or Malice say,
To me are Trifles; if the knowing few,

Who can fee Faults, but can fee Beauties too,
Applaud that Genius which themselves partake,
And fpare the Poçt for the Muse's fake.

The

The Muse who raises me from humble Ground,

To view the vaft and various World around:
How fast I mount! In what a wond'rous way
I grow transported to this large Survey!

I value Earth no more, and far below
Methinks I fee the bufy Pigmies go.

My Soul entranc'd is in a Rapture brought
Above the common Tracts of vulgar Thought:
With Fancy wing'd, I feel the purer Air,

And with Contempt look down on human Care.
Airy Ambition, ever soaring high,
Stands first expos'd to my cenforious Eye.
Behold fome toiling up a flipp'ry Hill,

Where, tho' arriv'd, they must be toiling still:
Some, with unsteady Feet, just fall'n to Ground;
Others at top, whose Heads are turning round,
To this high Sphere it happens still, that some,
The most unfit, are forwardeft to come;
Yet among these are Princes forc'd to chufe,
Or feck out fuch as would perhaps refuse.

Favour too great is safely plac'd on none;
And foon becomes a Dragon, or a Drone.
Either remifs and negligent of all,
Or else imperious and tyrannical.

agen,

The Muse inspires me now to look
And see a meaner fort of fordid Men
Doating on little Heaps of yellow Duft;
For that, defpifing Honour, Eafe, and Luft.
Let other Bards, expreffing how it fhines,
Describe with Envy what the Mifer finds
Only as Heaps of Dirt it seems to me,
Where we fuch defpicable Vermin fee;

Who creep through Filth a thousand crooked Ways,
Infenfible of Infamy, or Praise:

Loaded with Guilt, they ftill pursue their Course;
Not ev❜n restrain'd by Love, or Friendship's Force.
Not to enlarge on fuch an obvious Thought;
Behold their Folly, which tranfcends their Fault !
Alas, their Cares and Cautions only tend

To gain the Means, and then to lofe the End.

Like Heroes in Romances, ftill in Fight
For Miftreffes that yield them no Delight.

This, of all Vice, does most debase the Mind,
Gold is it self th' Allay to Human-kind.

Oh happy Times, when no fuch thing as Coin E'er tempted Friends to part, or Foes to join! Cattle, or Corn, among those harmless Men, Was all their Wealth, the Gold and Silver then : Corn was too bulky to corrupt a Tribe,

And bellowing Herds would have betray'd the Bribe.
Ev'n Traffick now is Intercourse of Ill;

And ev'ry Wind brings a new Mischief still;
By Trade we flourish in our Leaves and Fruit,
But Avrice and Excess devour the Root.

Thus far the Mufe unwillingly has been

Fix'd on the dull, less happy forts of Sin;

But, now more pleas'd, fhe views the diff'rent ways Of Luxury, and all its Charms furveys.

Dear Luxury! thou foft, but fure Deceit !

Rife of the Mean, and Ruin of the Great!

Thou