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Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace
Sat fair proportion'd on her polish'd limbs,
Veild in a simple robe, their best attire,
Beyond the pomp of dress; for loveliness
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most.
LAVINIA. Character of. Lavinia is polite; but not profane ; To church as constant as to Drury-lane. She decently in form pays heav'n its due : And makes a civil visit to her pew. Her lifted fan, to give a solemn air, Conceals her face, which passes for a prayer : Curt’sies to curt'sies then with grace succeed; Not one the fair omits, but at the creed. Or, if she joins the service, 'tis to speak ; Through dreadful silence the pent heart might break; Untaught to bear it, women talk away To God himself, and fondly think they pray. But sweet the accent, and their air refined ; For they're before their Maker-and mankind : When ladies once are proud of praying well, Satan himself will toll the parish bell.
LBARNING. Frauds of.
Learning, that cobweb of the brain
Profane, erroneous, and vain ;
A trade of knowledge as replete,
As others are with fraud and cheat;
An art tencumber gifts and wit,
And render both for nothing fit;
Makes light inactive, dull and troubled,
Like little David in Saul's doublet ;
A cheat that scholars put upon
Other men's reason and their own :
A sort of error, to ensconce
Absurdity and ignorance,
That renders all the avenues
To truth impervious and abstruse,
By making plain things, in debate,
By art perplext and intricate:
For nothing goes for sense or light,
That will not with old rules jump right;
As if rules were not in their schools
Derived from truth, but truth from rules.
LEARNING. Audribas, his.
We grant, although he had much wit,
H' was very shy of using it,
As being loth to wear it out,
And therefore bore it not about :
Unless on holidays or so,
As men their best apparel do.
Beside tis known he could speak Greek
As naturally as pigs do squeak;
That Latin was no more difficile,
Than to a blackbird 'tis to whistle :
Being rich in both, he never scanted
His bounty unto such as wanted;
But much of either would afford
To many that had not one word.
For Hebrew roots, although they're found
To flourish most in barren ground,
He had such plenty as suffic'd
To make some think him circumcis'd.
LEARNING. Often opposed to Wisdom.
But you are learn'd; in volumes deep you sit;
In wisdom shallow : pompous ignorance !
Learn well to know how much need not be known;
And what that knowledge, which impairs your sense.
Our needful knowledge, like our needful food,
Unhedg'd lies open in life's common field;
And bids all welcome to the vital feast.
You scorn what lies before you in the page
Of nature and experience, moral truth;
And dive in science for distinguish'd names,
Sinking in virtue, as you rise in fame,
Your learning, like the lunar beam, affords
Light, but not heat; it leaves you undevout. Young,
LEISURE. Not easily managed.
'Tis easy to resign a toilsome place,
But not to manage leisure with a grace ;
Absence of occupation is not rest,
A mind quite vacant is a mind distress'd.
The vetran steed, excus'd his task at length,
In kind compassion of his failing strength,
And turn'd into the park or mead to graze,
Exempt from future service all his days,
There feels a pleasure perfect in its kind,
Ranges at liberty, and snuffs the wind:
But when his lord would quit the busy road,
To taste a joy like that he had bestow'd,
He proves, less happy than his favour'd brute,
A life of ease a difficult pursuit.
LIFE. Its fleeting Nature,
Life's little stage is a small eminence.
Inch high the grave above ; that home of man,
Where dwells the multitude : we gaze around,
We read their monuments: we sigh; and while
We sigh, we sink; and are what we deplor'd;
Lamenting, or lamented, all our lot!
LIFE. A recluse one.
Therefore, fair Hernia, question your desires,
Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun;
For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood,
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage :
But earthlier happy is the rose distillid,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn,
Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. Shakspeare.
LIFE. Miseries of.
Ah ! little think the gay licentious proud,
Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround;
They who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth,
And wanton, often cruel, riot waste;
Ah ! little think they, while they dance along,
How many feel, this very moment, death,
And all the sad variety of pain.
How many sink in the devouring flood,
Or more devouring flame. How many bleed,
By shameful variance betwixt man and man.
How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms;
Shut from the common air, and common use
Of their own limbs. How many drink the cup
Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread
Of misery. Sore pierc'd by wintry winds,
How many shrink into the sordid hut
Of cheerless poverty. How many shake
With ail the fiercer tortures of the mind,
Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse;
Whence tumbled headlong from the height of life,
They furnish matter for the tragic muse;
Ev'n in the vale, where wisdom loves to dwell,
With friendship, peace, and contemplation join'd
How many; rack'd with honest passions, droop
In deep retir'd distress. How many stand
Around the death-bed of their dearest friends,
And point the parting anguish. Thought fond man
Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills,
That one incessant struggle render life,
One srene of toil, of suffering, and of fate,
Vice in his high career would stand appallid,
And heedless rambling impulse learn to think. Thomson.
LIFE. Sedentary and active.
From strenuous toil to hours of sweetest ease,
The sedentary stretch their lazy length
When custom bids, but no refreshment find,
For none they need; the languid eye, the cheek
Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid shrunk,
And wither'd muscle, and the vapid soul,
Reproach their owner with that love of rest,
To which he forfeits e'en the rest he loves.
Not such th' alert and active. Measure life
By its true worth, the comfort it affords,
And theirs alone seems worthy of the name.
Good health, and, its associate in the most,
Good temper; spirits prompt to undertake,
And not soon spent, though in an arduous task ;
The powers of fancy and strong thought are theirs.