286
On Equality of Conditions.
But can that wretch who lies upon the dust
Object at once of pity and disgust,
That breathing skeleton with woes oppressed,
Who lives to suffer, say, can he be blessed?
No; but can Thamas by a slave deposed,
A vizier in disgrace, a prince opposed,
Be happy deemed? When once they're cast in chains,
A sad remembrance of their state remains.
Each state its ills, its disappointments knows;
Man's state is varied, various are his woes;
Less fierce in peace, more active in the fight,
Charles had in English realms maintained his right.
And had Dufresny with more care applied,
Of want he had not like an author died.
We all are equal, men must bear fatigue,
Churches breed controversies, courts intrigue.
Too oft true merit lurks behind a screen,
Evil abounds, but bliss is often seen.
Nor youth, nor age, nor poverty, nor wealth,
Can e'er restore the wounded soul to health.
Irus of old, of poverty ashamed,
Loud against Crœsus' opulence declaimed:
"Honor and wealth by Crœsus are possessed,"
Cried he, "and only I remain unblessed."
While thus he spoke, while thus his rage prevailed,
The Carian king an armed host assailed.
Of all his courtly train not one remains,
In fight he's taken, and he's cast in chains;
His treasure's lost, his mistress from him torn:
He weeps, but sees, when lost and quite forlorn,
Object at once of pity and disgust,
That breathing skeleton with woes oppressed,
Who lives to suffer, say, can he be blessed?
No; but can Thamas by a slave deposed,
A vizier in disgrace, a prince opposed,
Be happy deemed? When once they're cast in chains,
A sad remembrance of their state remains.
Each state its ills, its disappointments knows;
Man's state is varied, various are his woes;
Less fierce in peace, more active in the fight,
Charles had in English realms maintained his right.
And had Dufresny with more care applied,
Of want he had not like an author died.
We all are equal, men must bear fatigue,
Churches breed controversies, courts intrigue.
Too oft true merit lurks behind a screen,
Evil abounds, but bliss is often seen.
Nor youth, nor age, nor poverty, nor wealth,
Can e'er restore the wounded soul to health.
Irus of old, of poverty ashamed,
Loud against Crœsus' opulence declaimed:
"Honor and wealth by Crœsus are possessed,"
Cried he, "and only I remain unblessed."
While thus he spoke, while thus his rage prevailed,
The Carian king an armed host assailed.
Of all his courtly train not one remains,
In fight he's taken, and he's cast in chains;
His treasure's lost, his mistress from him torn:
He weeps, but sees, when lost and quite forlorn,
