Though nature's works the ruling mind declare,
And well deserve inquiry's serious care,
The God (whate'er misanthropy may say)
Shines, beams in man with most unclouded
What boots it thee to fly from pole to pole?
Hang o'er the sun, and with the planets roll?
What boots through space's furthest bourns to roam?
If thou, O man, a stranger art at home.
Then know thyself, the human mind survey;
The use, the pleasure, will the toil repay.
Nor study only, practise what you know;
Your life, your knowledge to mankind you owe.
With Plato's olive-wreath the bays entwine:
Those who in study, should in practise shine.
Say, does the learned lord of Hagley's shade,
Charm man so much by mossy fountains laid,
As when arous'd he stems corruption's course,
And shakes the senate with a Tully's force?
When freedom gasp'd beneath a Cæsar's feet,
Then public virtue might to shades retreat:
But where she breathes, the least may useful be;
And freedom, Britain! still belongs to thee.
Though man's ungrateful, or though fortune frown;
Is the reward of worth a song, or crown?
Nor yet unrecompens'd are virtue's pains;
Good Allen lives, and bounteous Brunswick reigns.
On each condition disappointments wait,
Enter the hut, and force the guarded gate.
Nor dare repine, though early friendship bleed,
From love, the world, and all its cares, he's freed.
But know, adversity's the child of God:
Whom Heaven approves of most, must feel her rod
When smooth old Ocean, and each storm's asleep,
Then ignorance may plough the watery deep;
But when the demons of the tempest rave,
Skill must conduct the vessel through the wave.