Favour too great is fafely plac'd on none;
And foon becomes a Dragon, or a Drone.
Either remifs and negligent of all,
Or else imperious and tyrannical.
The Muse inspires me now to look agen,
And fee 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 shines,
Describe with Envy what the Miser 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 purfue 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 Mistresses that yield them no Delight.
This, of all Vice, does most debase the Mind,
Gold is it felf 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 ftilt;
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, lefs 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 fure Prefage of ill-approaching Fates!
The Bane of Empires, and the Change of States!
Armies in vain refift thy mighty Pow'r ;
Not the worst Conduct would confound them more.
Thus Rome her felf, while o'er the World fhe flew,
And did by Virtue all that World fubdue,
Was by her own victorious Arms opprefs'd
And catch'd Infection from the conquer'd Eaft;
Whence all thofe Vices came, which foon devour
The best Foundations of Renown, and Pow'r.
But, oh, what need have we abroad to roam,
Who feel too much the fad Effects at home,
Of wild Excess? which we fo plainly find,
Decays the Body, and impairs the Mind.
But yet grave Fops must not prefume from hence
To flight the facred Pleasures of the Sense:
Our Appetites are Nature's Laws, and giv'n
Under the broad authentick Seal of Heav'n.
Let Pedants wrangle, and let Biggots fight,
To put restraint on innocent Delight;
But Heav'n and Nature's always in the right;
They wou'd not draw poor wretched Mortals in,
Or give Defires that shall be doom'd for Sin.
Yet, that in height of harmless Joys we may
Laft to old Age, and never lofe a Day;
Amidft our Pleasures we our felves fhould spare,
And manage all with Temperance and Care.
The Gods forbid but we fometimes may steep'
Our Joys in Wine, and lull our Cares asleep :
It raises Nature, ripens Seeds of Worth,
As moist'ning Pictures calls the Colours forth;
But if the Varnish we too oft apply,
Alas! like Colours, we grow faint and die.
Hold, hold, impetuous Mufe: I would reftrain
Her over-eager Heat, but all in vain ;
Abandon'd to Delights, the longs to rové;
I check her here, and now she flies to Love.
Shews me fome rural Nymph by Shepherd chas'd,
Soon overtaken, and as foon embrac'd ;
The Grass by her, as fhe by him is prefs'd;
For fhame, my Muse, let Fancy guess the rest:
At fuch a Point Fancy can never stay,
But flies beyond whatever you can say.
Behold the filent Shades, the am'rous Grove,
The dear Delights, the very Act of Love.
This is his loweft Sphere, his Country Scene,
Where Love is humble, and his Fare but mean,
Yet fpringing up without the help of Art,
Leaves a fincerer Relifh in the Heart;
More healthfully, tho' not fo finely fcd,
And better thrives than where more nicely bred.
But 'tis in Courts where most he makes a Show,
And high enthron'd, governs the World below;
For tho' in Hiftories learn'd Ignorance
Attributes all to Cunning, or to Chance;
Love will in those Disguises often smile,
And knows, the Cause was Kindness all the while:
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