Or if some matchless Conduct shou'd appear,
They call the Valour, Heat; the Caution, Fear.
So false their Censure, fickle their Esteem,
This Hour they Worship; and the next Blaspheme.
Tho' honour'd as some God a Heroe shines,
And Valour executes what Skill designs;
Tho' rescu'd Nations their Deliv'rance own,
And Monarchs sit unshaken on a Throne,
Whilst proud Oppressors their vain Hopes give o'er,
And tremble at the Chains They forg'd before;
Yet if th' amazing Issue we survey,
We find that Fame has Wings, and flies away.
Shall I then, who with penetrating Sight
Inspect the Springs that guide each Appetite:
Who with unfathom'd Searches hourly pierce
The dark Recesses of the Universe,
Be aw'd, if puny Emmets wou'd oppress;
Or fear their Fury, or their Name caress?
If all the Fiends that in low Darkness reign,
Be not the Fictions of a sickly Brain,
That Project, the [1]Dispensary they call,
Before the Moon can blunt her Horns, shall fall.
With that, a Glance from mild Aurora's Eyes
Shoots thro' the Chrystal Kingdoms of the Skies;
The Savage Kind in Forests cease to roam,
And Sots o'ercharg'd with nauseous Loads reel home.
Drums, Trumpets, Haut-boys wake the slumbring Pair;
Whilst Bridegroom sighs, and thinks the Bride less fair.
Light's chearful Smiles o'er th'Azure Waste are spread,
And Miss from Inns o'Court bolts out unpaid.
- ↑ Medicines made up there, for the use of the Poor.
