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Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage,
And cards and counters are the toys of age;
Pleas'd with this bauble still, as that before;
Till tir'd he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er.
Mean while opinion gilds, with varying rays,
Those painted clouds that beautify our days;
Each want of happiness by hope supply'd,
And each vacuity of sense by pride.
These build as fast as knowledge can destroy:
In folly's cup still laughs the bubble, joy:
One prospect lost, another still we gain,
And not a vanity is giv'n in vain;
E'en mean self-love becomes, by force divine,
The scale to measure others' wants by thine.
See! and confess, one comfort still must rise;
'Tis this: Though man's a fool, yet God is wise.

VII-The Toilet.

AND now, unveil'd, the toilet stands display'd, Each silver vase in mystic order laid. First rob'd in white, the nymph intent adores, With head uncover'd, the cosmetic powers. A heavenly image in the glass appears; To that she bends, to that her eye she rears. Th' inferior priestess, at the altar's side, Trembling, begins the sacred rites of pride. Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here The various offerings of the world appear; From each she nicely culls, with curious toil, And decks the goddess with glittering spoil. This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box. The tortoise here, and elephant unite, Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white; Here files of Pins extend their shining rows, Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billetdoux. Now awful beauty puts on all its arms, The fair, each moment, rises in her charns, Repairs her smiles awakens ev'ry grace, And calls forth all the wonders of her face. VIII. The Hermit.

FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age, a rev'rend hermit grew. The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the chrystial well: Remote from man, with God he passed the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. A life so sacred, such serene repose, Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose: That vice should triumph, virtue vice obex

Thus sprung some doubt of Providence's sway.
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast,
And all the tenor of his soul is lost.
So, when a smooth expanse receives, imprest,
Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast,
Down bend the banks, the trees, depending, grow;
And skies beneath, with answ'ring colors, glow;
But if a stone the gentle sea divide,
Swift ruffling circles curl on ev'ry side;
And glimm'ring fragments of a broken sun,
Banks, trees and skies in thick disorder ram.

To clear this doubt; to know the world by sight;
To find if books or swains report it right;
(For yet by swains alone the world he knew,
Whose feet come wand'ring o'er the nightly dew
He quits his cell; the pilgrim staff he bore,
And fix'd the scallop in his hat before;
Then, with the sun, a rising journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.

The morn was wasted in the pathless grass, And long and loathsome was the wild to pass: But when the southern sun had warm'd the day, A youth came posting o'er the crossing way; His raiment decent, his complexion fair, And soft, in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair. Then, near approaching, Father, hail! he cri'd; And hail! my son, the rev'rend sire reply'd : Words follow'd words; from question answer flow'd And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road; Till, each with other pleas'd, and loth to part, While in their age they differ, join in heart. Thus stands an aged elin in ivy bound; Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around. Now sunk the sun; the closing hour of day Come onward, mantled o'er with sober gray; Nature, in silence, bid the world repose; When, near the road, a stately palace rose: There, by the moon through ranks of trees they pass, Whose verdure crown'd the sloping sides of grass. It chanc'd the noble master of the dome Still made his house the wand'ring stranger's home: Yet still, the kindness, from a thirst of praise, Prov'd the vain flourish of expensive ease. The pair arrive; the liv'ry'd servants wait, Their lord receives them at the pompus gate; A table groans with costly piles of food; And all is more than hospitably good. Then, led to rest, the day's long toil they drown, Deep sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps ot down. At length 'tis morn; and at the dawn of day, Along the wide canals the zephyrs play;

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Fresh o'er the gay parterres, the breezes creep,
And shake the neighb'ring wood, to banish sleep.
Up rise the guests obedient to the call;
An early banquet deck'd the splendid hall;
Rich luscious wine a golden goblet grac'd,
Which the kind master forc'd the guests to taste.
Then, pleas'd and thankful, from the porch they go;
And, but the landlord, none had cause of woe;
His cup was vanish'd; for in secret guise,
The younger guest purloin'd the glitt'ring prize.

As one who sees a serpent in his way,
Glist'ning and basking in the summer ray,
Disorder'd stops, to shun the danger near,
Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear;
So seem'd the sire, when, far upon the road,
The shining spoil his wily partner show'd.
He stopt with silence, walk'd with trembling heart,
And much he wish'd, but durst not ask to part:
Murm'ring he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard,
That gen'rous actions meet a base reward.

While thus they pass, the sun his glory shrouds; The changing skies hang out their sable clouds; A sound in air presag'd approaching rain, And beasts to covert scud across the plain. Warn'd by the signs, the wand'ring pair retreat, To seek for shelter in a neighbʻring seat. 'Twas built with turrets on a rising ground; And strong and large, and unimprov'd around: Its owner's temper, tim'rous and severe, Unkind and griping, caus'd a desart there. As near the miser's heavy doors they drew, Fierce rising gusts with sudden fury blew ; The nimble lightning, mix'd with showers began, And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran. Here long they knock; but knock or call in vain, Driven by the wind, and batter'd by the rain. At length, some pity warm'd the master's breast : ('Twas then his threshold first receiv'd a guest ;) Slow creaking turns the door, with jealous care, And half he welcomes in the shiv'ring pair. One frugal faggot lights the naked walls, And nature's fervor through their limbs recalls; Bread of the coarsest sort, with meagre wine, (Each hardly granted) serv'd them both to dine; And when the tempest first appear'd to cease, A ready warning bid them part in peace. With still remark, the pond'ring hermit view'd, In one so rich, a life so poor and rude : And why should such (within himself he cry'd) Lock the lost wealth, a thousand want beside?

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But, what new marks of wonder soon took place,
In every settling feature of his face,
When, from his vest, the young companion bore
That cup, the gen'rous landlord own'd before,
And paid profusely with the precious bowl,
The stinted kindness of his churlish soul!
But, now the clouds in airy tumult fly:
The sun, emerging, opes an azure sky;
A fresher green the smelling leaves display,
And glittring as they tremble, cheer the day :
The weather courts them from the poor retreat;
And the glad master bolts the wary gate.

While hence they walk, the pilgrim's bosom wrought
With all the travail of uncertain thought.
His partner's acts without their cause appear-
'Twas there a vice, and seem'd a madness here.
Detesting that, and pitying this, he goes,
Lost and confounded with the various shows.
Now night's dım shades again involve the sky-

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Again the wanderers want a place to lie-
Again they search, and find a lodging nigh-
The soil improv'd around-the mansion neat-
And neither poorly low, nor idly great :
It seem'd to speak its master's turn of mind-
Content, and not for praise, but virtue, kind.
Hither the weary walkers turn with weary feet;
Then bless the mansion, and the master greet;
Their greeting fair, bestow'd with modest guise,
The courteous master hears, and thus replies.
Without a vain, without a grudging heart,
To him who gives us all, I yield a part:
From him you come, from him accept it here-
A frank and sober, more than costly cheer.
He spoke; and bade the welcome table spread;
Then talk'd of virtue till the time of bed;
When the grave household round his hall repair,
Warn'd by the bell, and close the hours with prayer.

At length, the world, renew'd by calm repose,
Was strong for toil; the dappled morn arose ;
Before the pilgrims part, the younger crept
Near the clos'd cradle, where an infant slept.
And writh'd his neck;
the landlord's little pride-

O strange return!-grew black, and gasp'd and died.
Horror of horrors! what! his only son!

How look'd our hermit when the deed was done! Not hell, though hell's black jaws in sunder part, And breathe blue fire, could more assault his heart. Confus'd, and struck with silence at the deed,

He flies; but trembling, fails to fly with speed.

His steps the youth pursues. 'The country lay
Perplex'd with roads; a servant show'd the way,
A river cross'd the path. The passage o'er
Was nice to find; the servanttrod before;
Long arms of oak an open bridge supply'd,
And the deep waves, beneath the bending, glide.
The youth who seem'd to watch a time to sin,
Approach'd the carless guide, and thrust him in:
Plunging, he falls; and rising, lifs his head;
Then flashing, turns, and sinks among the dead.
Wild sparkling rage inflames the father's eyes;
He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries,
Detested wretch!-But scarce his speech began,
When the strange partner seem'd no longer man;
His youthful face grew more serenely sweet,
His robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his feet;
Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair,
Celestial odors breath through purpled air;
And wings, whose colors glitter'd on the day,
Wide at his back, their gradual plumes display::
The form etherial bursts upon his sight,
And moves in all the majesty of light.

Though loud, at first, the pilgrim's passion grew,
Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do;
Surprise, in secret chains, his word suspends,
And, in a calm, his settled temper ends
But silence here, the beauteous angel broke:
The voice of music ravish'd as he spoke.

Thy prayer, thy praise, thy life, to vice unknown,
In sweet memorial rise before the throne:
These charms success in our bright region find,
And force an angel down to calm thy mind,
For this commission'd I forsook the sky;
Nay, cease to kneel, thy fellow servant I.
Then know the truth of government divine,
And let these scruples be no longer thine.

The Maker justly claims that world he made;
In this the right of Providence is laid;
Its sacred majesty, through all, depends -
On using second means to work his ends.
'Tis thus, withdrawn in state from human eye,
The power exerts his attributes on high;
Your actions uses, nor controls your will,
And bids the doubting sons of men be still.

What strange events can strike with more surprise,
Than those which lately struck thy wond'ring eyes?
Yet taught by these, confess the Almighty just,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust.

The great, vain man, who far'd on costly food, Whose life was too luxurious to be good;

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