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Show 90 TV EM Si Silence and Innocence are fafe ; A heart that's nobly true At all thefe little Arts can laugh That do the World fubdue. While others Revel it in State, Here I'll contented Ht, And think I have as good a Fate As Wealth and Pomp admit. Let fome in Courtfhip take delight, And to th' Exchange refort; Then Revel out a Winter's night, Not making Love, but cport. Thefe never know a noble Flame, 'Tis Luft, Scorn, or Defign : While Vanity plays all thek Gaftie, Let Peace and Honour mine. W h e n the inviting Spring appears, T o Hidc-Parl(kt them go, { And halting thence be full of fears T o lofe Spring-Garden fhew. Let others (nobler) feek to gain In Knowledge happy Fate, And others bufie them in vain T o ftudy ways of State. But I, refolved from within, Confirmed from without, jn Privacy intend to fpin M y future Minutes out. And from this Hermitage of mine I banifh all wild toys, And nothing that is not Divine Shall dare to tempt m y Joys. There are below but two things good., Friendfhip and Honefty, And onely thofe of all I would Ask for Felicity. In this retir'd and humble feat Free from both W a r and Strife, 9 0 E M S. 9l I am not forc'd to make retreat, But chufe to fpend m y life. To Mrs. Wogan, my Honoured Friend, on the Death of her Husband. DRy up your tears, there's enough fhed by you, And we muft pay our fhare of Sorrows too. It is no private lofs when fuch men fall, The World's cOncern'd, and Grief is general. But though of our Misfortune w e complain, To him it is injurious and vain. For fince w e know his rich Integrity, His real ^weetnefs, and full Harmony $ H o w free his heart and houfe were to his Friends, W h o m he oblig'd without Defign or Ends; H o w univerfal was his courtefie, H o w clear a Soul, how even, and how high ; H o w much he fcorn'd difguife or meaner Arts, But with a native Honour conquer d Hearts j W e muft conclude he w as a Treafure lent Soon weary of this fordid Tenement. The Age and World deferv'd him not, and he Was kindly fhatch d from future Mifery. W e can fcarce fay he's Dead, but gone to reft, And left a Monument in ev'ry breaft. For you to grieve then in this fad excefs, Is not to fpeak your f ove, but make it lefs. A noble Soiil no Friendfhip will admit, But what's Eternal and Divine as it. The Soul is hid in mortal flefli w e know, And all its weakneffes muft undergo, Till by degrees it does fhine forth at length, And gathers Beauty, Purity, and Strength : But never yet doth this Immortal Ray Put on full fplendor till it put off Clay: N 2 So |
