if ye see the stream go gliding on In pleasant ways, through the far distance, spread On fertile banks, till it at length attain A fair and undisturbéd flow, and give A beauty to the scenes which round it lie, Or if it ripple for a weary while, And die at length into a marshy waste, Give choice to say the former; for the voice Of him who doth a tiding good convey Is sweeter far than his which speaketh ill. p. 8 TO THE SAGE. Ye sages, wise and good, or, if not good, Though wise, the more thy loss, attend and hear Awhile, though but a pensive ear ye lend, If ye will deign to hearken as I speak. More wont are ye to hear the well-tuned voice Of classic writer flow in brilliant thought, Poured from a noble mind, and deep and clear. Learned of the liberty I take, resolved, I come thy favor to seduce, and crave That ye will hearken with a patient heed Until my story hath been fully told. Spurn not a man because his years are few, p. 9Or that he seems a novice at the first; But lend a fair and an impartial heed, Till he can prove if aught which he can bring, Is fit to harbour for the worth it holds. The fame of all the great, first as a bud appears, And daily spreads till gay perfections shine; So must it ever be to those who rise; And thus I claim indulgence at thy hand. Raised with fair hope, I leave thee to the task, And trust that of a judgment wise and good Ye will declare a fair decision, such As Justice (ever just) would deem it right To give to one confiding for the truth. I hold no purpose dark, but proudly tell I long to bear the barrier down which stays The narrow path unto the hill of Fame, And win a way unto the lustrous heights, When, looking hence, behold the seat of toil, And they who labor, striving to ascend; And now in sweet reflection view once more The days of old, when the like toil was mine. p. 9 TO THE PEOPLE. All ye who form, each in thy mite, the vast And countless chaos of humanity, p. 10Named, as of use, “The Public,” I dispute No term as base or just, but join thereto An atom with the motley crowd, resigned, Of kings, and lords, and people, all as one, Who hold no claim as critic, seer, or sage, And spurn the name of Sloth as loathsome to The ear; who dwell within the pale, and breathe The air of this delirious age, when pomps And fashions rage throughout the land, and half Of all the people know not why they live, But live to feast on sensual delights, And deck the body with insipid show; When they who are not would be great and high; And, if their fortune doth not bear them on With the
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