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ODE XI.

THE

VANITY OF WEALTH.

BY SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D.

No more, thus brooding o'er yon heap,
With Avarice painful vigils keep,
Still unenjoy'd the present store,
Still endless sighs are breath'd for more.
O quit the shadow, catch the prize,
Which not all India's treasure buys!
To purchase Heaven has gold the power ?
Can gold remove the mortal hour ?
In life can Love be bought with gold ?
Are Friendship's pleasures to be sold?
No-all that's worth a wish, a thought,
Fair Virtue gives, unbrib’d, unbought.
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind,
Let nobler views engage thy mind.

With Science tread the wondrous way,
Or learn the Muse's moral lay ;
In social hours indulge thy soul,
Where Mirth and Temperance mix the bowl;
To virtuous Love resign thy breast,
And be by blessing Beauty blest.

Thus taste the feast by Nature spread, Ere Youth and all its joys are fled; Come, taste with me the balm of life, Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. I boast, whate'er for man was meant, In health, and Stella, and content; And scorn! oh! let that scorn be thine! Mere things of clay, that dig the mine.

ODE XII.

THE

HAPPINESS OF A MODERATE FORTUNE,

AND

MODERATE DESIRES.

FROM THE FRENCH OF MR. GRESSET.

Written in M DCC LX.

BY JOHN LANGHORNE, D.D.

O GODdess of the golden mean,

Whom still misjudging folly flies,
Seduc'd by each delusive scene;

Thy only subjects are the wise.
These seek thy paths with nobler aim,
And trace them to the gates of Fame.

See, foster'd in thy fav'ring shade,

Each tender bard of verse divine !
Who, lur'd by fortune's vain parade,

Had never form'd the tuneful line;
By fortune lur'd or want confin'd,
Whose cold hand chills the genial mind.

In vain you slight the flowery crown,

That fame wreaths round the favour'd head! Whilst laurel’d victory and renown

Their heroes from thy shades have led; There form’d, from courtly softness free, By rigid virtue and by theę.

By thee were form’d, from cities far,

FABRICIUS just; CAMILLUS wise, Those philosophic sons of war,

That from imperial dignities Returning, plough'd their native plain, And plac'd their laurels in thy fane.

Thrice happy he, on whose calm breast

The smiles of peaceful wisdom play, With all thy sober charms possest,

Whose wishes never learnt to stray. Whom truth, of pleasures pure but grave, And pensive thoughts, froin folly save.

of life,

Far from the crowd's low-thoughted strife,

From all that bounds fair freedom's aim, He envies not the pomp

A length of rent-roll, or of name : For safe he views the vale-grown elm, While thunder-sounding storms the mountain

pine o'erwhelm.

Of censure's frown he feels no dread,

No fear he knows of vulgar eyes, Whose thought to nobler objects led,

Far, far o'er their horizon Alies: With reason's suff'rage at his side, Whose firm heart rests self-satisfied,

And while alternate conquest sways

The northern, or the southern shore, He smiles at Fortune's giddy maze,

And calmly hears the wild storm roar. Ev'n Nature's groans, unmov'd with fear, And bursting worlds, he'd calmly hear.

Such are the faithful hearts you love,

O FRIENDSHIP fair, immortal maid; The few caprice could never move,

The few whom interest never sway'd; Nor shed unseen, with hate refin'd, The pale cares o'er the gloomy mind.

Soft sleep, that lov'st the peaceful cell,

On these descends thy balmy power ; While no terrific dreams dispel

The slumbers of the sober hour; Which oft, array'd in darkness drear, Wake the wild eye of pride to fear.

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