The HERO's SCHOOL of MORALITY.

HERON, amongst his travels, found,

THER

A broken ftatue on the the ground;

And fearching onward as he went

He trac'd a ruin'd monument.

Mould, mofs, and fhades, had overgrown
The sculpture of the crumbling ftone,
Yet e'er he past, with much ado,
He guefs'd, and spell'd out, SCI-PI-O.

Enough, he cry'd; I'll drudge no more

"In turning the dull Stoics o'er;

"Let pedants wafte their hours of cafe
"To fweat all night at Socrates;

"And feed their boys with notes and rules,
"Thofe tedious Recipe's of fchools,
"To cure ambition: I can learn
"With greater cafe the great concern
"Of mortals; how we may despise
"All the gay things below the fkies.

"Methinks a mouldering pyramid
"Says all that the old fages faid;
"For me thefe fhatter'd tombs contain
"More morals than the Vatican.

"The duft of heroes caft abroad,

"And kick'd, and trampled in the road,

"'The

"The relicks of a lofty mind,
"That lately wars and crowns defign'd,
"Toft for a jeft from wind to wind,
"Bid me be humble, and forbear
"Tall monuments of fame to rear,

They are but castles in the air,

"The towering heights, and frightful falls, "The ruin'd heaps, and funerals,

"Of fmoking kingdoms and their kings,

"Tell me a thousand mournful things "In melancholy filence.

"That living could not bear to fee

"An equal, now lies torn and dead;

-He

"Here his pale trunk, and there his head;
"Great Pompey! while I meditate,
"With folemn horror, thy fad fate,

Thy carcafe, scatter'd on the fhore "Without a name, inftructs me more "Than my whole library before.

"Lie ftill, my Plutarch, then, and fleep, "And my good Seneca may keep "Your volumes clos'd for ever too, "I have no further ufe for you: "For when I feel my virtue fail, "And my ambitious thoughts prevail, "I'll take a turn among the tombs, "And fee whereto all glory comes: F 4

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"There

"There the vile foot of every clown "Tramples the fons of honour down. "Beggars with awful afhes fport,

"And tread the Cafars in the dirt."

TEM

FREE DO M.

1697.

EMPT me no more. My foul can ne'er comport
With the gay flaveries of a court;

I've an averfion to thofe charms,

And hug dear liberty in both mine arms.

Go, vaffal-fouls, go, cringe and wait, And dance attendance at Honorio's gate,

Then run in troops before him to compofe his ftate; Move as he moves: and when he loiters, ftand;

You're but the fhadows of a man.

Bend when he speaks; and kifs the ground:
Co, catch th' impertinence of found:
Adore the follies of the great;

Wait till he fmiles: But lo, the idol frown'd
And drove them to their fate.

Thus bafe-born minds: but as for Me,

I can and will be free:

Like a strong mountain, or fome stately tree,

My foul grows firm upright,

And as I ftand, and as I go,

It keeps my body fo;

No, I can never part with my creation-right. Let flaves and affes floop and bow,

I cannot make this iron knee

Bend to a meaner power than that which form'd it free.

Thus my bold harp profufely play'd Pindarical; then on a branchy fhade

I hung my harp aloft, myfelf beneath it laid.

Nature that liften'd to my ftrain,

Refum'd the theme, and acted it again.

Sudden rofe a whirling wind

Swelling like Honorio proud,

Around the ftraws and feathers crowd,

Types of a flavish mind;

Upwards the formy forces rife,

The duft flies up and climbs the skies,
And as the tempeft fell th' obedient vapours funk:
Again it roars with bellowing found,

The meaner plants that grew around,

The willow, and the afp, trembled and kiss'd the ground:

Hard by there flood the iron trunk
Of an old oak, and all the ftorm defy'd;
In vain the winds their forces try'd,

In vain they roar'd; the iron oak
Bow'd only to the heavenly thunder's ftroke,

Од

On Mr. LOCKE's Annotations upon feveral Parts of the NEW TESTAMENT, left behind him at his Death.

HUS reafon learns by flow degrees,

THUS

What faith reveals; but ftill complains
Of intellectual pains,

And darkness from the too exuberant light.
The blaze of thofe bright myfteries
Pour'd all at once on nature's eyes
Offend and cloud her feeble fight.

Reafon could scare fuftain to fee
Th' Almighty One, th' Eternal Three,
Or bear the infant Deity;

Scarce could her pride defcend to own
Her Maker ftcoping from his throne,
And dreft in glories fo unknown.
A ranfom'd world, a bleeding God,
And heaven appeas'd with flowing blood,
Were themes too painful to be underflood.

Faith, thou bright cherub, fpeak, and say
Did ever mind of mortal race

Coft thee more toil, or larger grace,

To melt and bend it to obey.

Twas hard to make fo rich a foul fubmit,

And lay her fhining honours at thy fovereign feet.

Sifter