60
Epistles.
Fantastic joys in distant views appear, 120
And tempt the man to make the rash career.
Fame, pow'r, and wealth, which glitter at the goal,
Allure his eye, and fire his eager soul:
For these are ease and innocence resign'd;
For these he strips; farewell the tranquil mind! 125
Headstrong, he urges on till vigour fails,
And gray experience (but too late!) prevails:
But in his ev'ning view the hoary fool,
When the nerves slacken and the spirits cool;
When joy and blushy youth forsake his face, 130
Sicklied with age, and sour with self-disgrace;
No flavour then the sparkling cups retain,
Music is harsh, the Syren sings in vain.
To him what healing balm can art apply
Who lives diseas'd with life, and dreads to die? 135
In that last scene, by Fate in sables dress'd,
Thy pow'r, triumphant Virtue! is confess'd;
Thy Vestal flames diffuse celestial light
Thro' Death's dark vale, and vanquish total night;
Lenient of anguish, o'er the breast prevail, 140
When the gay toys of flatt'ring Fortune fail.
Such, happy Twisden! (ever be thy name
Mourn'd by the Muse, and fair in deathless fame!)
While the bright effluence of her glory shone
Were thy last hours, and such I wish my own: 145
So caffra bruis'd exhales her rich perfumes,
And incense in a fragrant cloud consumes,
And tempt the man to make the rash career.
Fame, pow'r, and wealth, which glitter at the goal,
Allure his eye, and fire his eager soul:
For these are ease and innocence resign'd;
For these he strips; farewell the tranquil mind! 125
Headstrong, he urges on till vigour fails,
And gray experience (but too late!) prevails:
But in his ev'ning view the hoary fool,
When the nerves slacken and the spirits cool;
When joy and blushy youth forsake his face, 130
Sicklied with age, and sour with self-disgrace;
No flavour then the sparkling cups retain,
Music is harsh, the Syren sings in vain.
To him what healing balm can art apply
Who lives diseas'd with life, and dreads to die? 135
In that last scene, by Fate in sables dress'd,
Thy pow'r, triumphant Virtue! is confess'd;
Thy Vestal flames diffuse celestial light
Thro' Death's dark vale, and vanquish total night;
Lenient of anguish, o'er the breast prevail, 140
When the gay toys of flatt'ring Fortune fail.
Such, happy Twisden! (ever be thy name
Mourn'd by the Muse, and fair in deathless fame!)
While the bright effluence of her glory shone
Were thy last hours, and such I wish my own: 145
So caffra bruis'd exhales her rich perfumes,
And incense in a fragrant cloud consumes,
