Sour Discontent that quarrels with our Fate,
May give fresh Smart, but not the old abate:
Th'uneafy Paffion's difingenious Wit,
The Ill reveals, but hides the Benefit.

Secure and free from Bus'nefs of the State,
And more fecure of what the Vulgar prate;
Here I enjoy my private Thoughts, nor care
What Rot for Sheep the Southern Winds prepare:
Survey the neighb'ring Fields, and not repine
When I behold a larger Crop than mine.
To fee a Beggar's Brat in Riches flow,
Adds not a Wrinkle to my even Brow.

He laugh'd at all the Vulgar's Cares and Fears,

At their vain Triumphs, and their vainer Tears:

An equal Temper in his Mind he found,

Blas

Dryd. Perf.

When Fortune flatter'd him, and when the frown'd. Dryd. Fuv. Since all great Souls ftill make their own Content,

We to our felves may all our Wishes grant ;

For nothing coveting, we nothing want.

Dryd. Ind. Emp.

They cannot want who wish not to have more;
Who ever faid an Anchoret was poor?

Forgive the Gods the reft, and ftand confin'd
To Health of Body and Content of Mind;
A Soul that can fecurely Death defy,
And count it Nature's Privilege to die;
Serene and manly, harden'd to fuftain
The Load of Life, and exercis'd in Pain ;
Guiltless of Hate, and Proof against Defire;
That all things weighs, and nothing can admire.
Reft we contented with our present State;
'Tis anxious to enquire of future Fate.

Be fatisfy'd and pleas'd with what thou art ;
A& chearfully and well th'allotted Part:

Dryd. Sec. Love.

Enjoy the prefent Hour, be thankful for the past,

Dryd. Juv.

Dryd. K. Arth.

And neither fear nor with th'Approaches of the laft. Cowl. Mart.

CORPS.

A Lump of fenfelefs Clay! The Leavings of a Soul. Dryd.
All pale he lies, and looks a lovely Flow'r,

New cropt by Virgin-Hands to dress the Bow'r :
Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below:

(all for Love.

(Virg No more to Mother Earth or the green Stem fhall owe. Dryd.

CORN.

The bearded Product of the golden Year. As when a fuddain Storm of Hail and Rain Beats to the Ground the yet unbearded Grain; Think not the Hopes of Harveft are destroy'd On the flat Field and on the naked Void :

Dryd. Virg.

The

The light unloaded Stem, from Tempeft freed,
Will raise the youthful Honours of his Head;
And, foon reftor'd by native Vigour, bear
The timely Produ&t of the bounteous Year:
As when a Field

Of Ceres, ripe for Harvest, waving bends
Her bearded Grove of Ears, which Way the Wind
Sways them; the careful Plowman doubting ftands,
Left on the threshing Floor his hopeful Sheaves
Prove Chaff.

Dryd. Virg.

COUNSELLOR, and Juftice of the Peace:
An old dull Sot, who'ad told the Clock,
For many Years at Bride wel Dock,
At Westminster and Hicks's Hall;
And Hiltins-Doctius play'd in all :
Where in all Governments and Times,
He'ad been both Friend and Foe to Crimes:
And us'd Two equal ways of gaining,
By hind'ring Juftice, or maintaining :
To many a Whore gave Privilege,
And whip'd for want of Quarteridge:
Cart-loads of Bawds to Prifon fent,
For being behind a Fortnight's Rent;
And many a trufty Pimp and Crony,
To Puddle-Dock, for want of Money.
Engag'd the Conftable to fieze

All those who would not break the Peace;
Nor give him back his own foul Words,
Tho' fometimes Commoners or Lords:
And kept them Prifoners of Course,
For being fober at ill Hours;
That in the Morning he might free,
Or bind them over, for his Fee.
Made Monsters fine, and Puppet-Plays,
For leave to practise in their Ways.
Farm'd out all Cheats, and went a Share
With th Headborough and Scavenger,
And made the Dirt i'th Street compound
For taking up the publick Ground:
The Kennel and the King's High-way,
For being unmolested, pay.

Let out the Stocks, and Whipping-Poft,
And Cage, to those that give him most.
Impos'd a Tax on Baker's Ears,
And for falfe Weights on Chandelers.
Made Victuallers and Vintners fine
For arbitrary Ale and Wine.

Milt.

Bus

But was a kind and conftant Friend
To all that regularly offend;
As Refidentiary Bawds,

And Brokers that receive ftol'n Goods ;
That cheat in lawful Mysteries,
And pay Church Duties and his Fees :
But was implacable and aukward
To fuch as interlop'd and hauker'd.
To this brave Man the Knight repairs
For Counsel in his Law Affairs;
And found him mounted in his Pew,
With Books and Money plac'd for Shew,
Like Neft-Eggs, to make Clients lay,
And for his falfe Opinion pay.

To whom the Knight with comely Grace,
Put off his Hat, to put his Cafe:
Which he as proudly entertain'd,
As th'other courteously ftrain'd:
And to affure him 'twas not that
He look'd for, bid him put on's Hat.
COUNTRY LIFE.
Hail old patrician Trees! fo great and good!
Hail ye Plebian Underwood!
Where the poetick Birds rejoyce,

And for their quiet Nefts and plenteous Food,
Pay with their grateful Voice.

Hail the poor Mufes richest Mannour-Seat!
Ye Country-Houfes and Retreat !
Which all the happy Gods fo love,
That for you oft they quit
Their bright and great Metropolis above.
Here Nature does a House for me erect ;
Nature, the wifeft Archite&!

Who thofe fond Artifts does de fpife,

That can the fair and living Trees neglect,
Yet the dead Timber prize.
Here let me, careless and unthoughtful lying,
Hear the foft Winds above me flying,
With all the wanton Boughs difpute,
And the more tuneful Birds to both replying;
Nor be my felf too mute.
A filver Stream ftill rouls his Waters near,
Gilt with Sun-beams here and there,
On whofe enamel'd Bank I'll walk,

And fee how prettily they fmile, and hear
How prettily they talk.

Hud.

Cowl.

O Fountains! When in you fhall I,
My felf, eas'd of unpeaceful Thoughts, efpy?
O Fields! O Woods! When, when fhall I be made
The happy Tenant of your Shade?
Here's the Spring-head of Pleafure's Flood,
Where all the Riches lie, that the

Has coin'd and ftamp'd for Good.
Pride and Ambition here,

Only in far-fetch'd Metaphors appear.

Here nought but Winds can hurtful Murmurs fcatter,
And nought but Echo flatter.

The Gods when they defcended, hither
From Heav'n did always chufe their Way,
And therefore we may boldly fay,
That 'tis the Way too thither.

How happy in his low Degree,
How rich in humble Poverty is he,
Who leads a quiet Country-Life,
Difcharg'd of Bus'nefs, void of Strife,
And from the griping Scriv'ner free!
Nor Trumpets fummon him to War,
Nor Dreams difturb his Morning Sleep,
Nor knows he Merchants gainful Care,
Nor fears the Dangers of the Deep.
The Clamours of contentious Law,
And Court and State he wifely fhuns
Nor brib'd with Hopes, nor dar'd with Awe
To furvile Salutations runs.
But either to the clafping Vine

Does the fupporting Poplar wed,
Or with his Pruning-Hook disjoyn
Unbearing Branches from their Head,
And grafts more happy in their stead.

Or climbing to a hilly Steep,

He views his Herds in Vales afar,
Or fhears his over-burthen'd Sheep,
Or Mead for cooling Drink prepares
Of Virgin-Honey in the Jars.

Or in the new declining Year,

When bounteous Autumn rears his Head,

He joys to pull the ripen'd Pear,

And cluftering Grapes, with purple spread.
Sometimes beneath an ancient Oak,

Or on the matted Grafs he lies;

No God of Sleep he need invoke,
The Stream that o'er the Pebbles flies,
With gentle Slumber crowns his Eyes:

Cowl

The

The Wind, that whiftles thro' the Sprays,
Maintains the Confort of the Song,
And hidden Birds with native Lays
The golden Sleep prolong.

But when the Blaft of Winter blows,
And hoary Froft inverts the Year,
Into the naked Woods he goes,

And feeks the tusky Boar to rear,

With well-mouth'd Hounds and pointed Spear.
Or fpreads his fubtle Nets from Sight,

With twinkling Glaffes to betray
The Larks that in the Mefhes light:
Or makes the fearful Hare his Prey.
Amidft his harmless eafy Joys

No anxious Cares invade his Health;
Nor Love his Peace of Mind destroys,

Nor wicked Avarice of Wealth.
Thus e'er the Seeds of Vice were fown,
Liv'd Men in better Ages born;
Who plow'd with Oxen of their own,
Their fmall paternal Field of Corn.
Oh let me in the Country range!
'Tis there we breathe, 'tis there we live :
The beauteous Scene of aged Mountains,
Smiling Valleys, murm'ring Fountains;
Lambs in flow'ry Paftures bleating,
Echo our Complaints repeating;
Bees with bufie Sounds delighting,
Groves to gentle Sleep inviting;
Whispering Winds the Poplars courting,
Swains in ruftick Circles fporting;
Birds in chearful Notes expreffing,
Nature's Bounty, and their Bleffing:
Thefe afford a lafting Pleasure,

Without Guilt, and without Measure.
Happy the Man, whom bounteous Gods allow
With his own Hands paternal Grounds to plow!
Like the first golden Mortals happy he,

From Bus'nefs, and the Cares of Money free!
No human Storms break off at Land his Sleep,
No loud Alarms of Nature on the Deep:
From all the Gheats of Law he lives fecure,
Nor does th'Affronts of Palaces endure.
Sometimes the beauteous marriageable Vine
He to the lufty Bridegroom Elm does join;
Sometimes he lops the barren Trees around,
And grafts new Life into the fruitful Wound:

Dryd. Hor.

Brown.

Sometimes