'Yet, all beneath th' unrivall'd Rofe, The lowly Daify fweetly blows; 'Tho' large the foreft's Monarch throws • Yet His army fhade, green the juicy Hawthorn grows, • Adown the glade. • Then never murmur nor repine; Strive in thy humble sphere to fhine; . And trust me, not Potofi's mine, Nor Kings regard, Can give a blifs o'ermatching thine, A ruflic Bard. To give my counfels all in one, Preferve the dignity of Man, • With Soul ere&t; And truft the Univerfal Plan Will all protect. And wear thou this'- fhe folemn faid, And bound the Holly round my head: The polished leaves, and berries red, Did ruftling play; And, like a paffing thought, fhe fled In light away. My Son, thefe Maxims make a rule, And lump them ay thegither: The Rigid Wife anither : SOLOMON.Ecclef. ch. vii. I. OYE wha are fae guid yourfel Sae pious and fae holy, Ye've nought to do but mark and tell Your Neebours' fauts and folly; The heapet happer's ebbing still, That frequent pafs douce Wifdom's door I, for their thoughtless, careless fakes, Their donfie tricks, their black mistakes, III. Ye fee your state wi' their's compar❜d, And shudder at the niffer, But caft a moment's fair regard What makes the mighty differ; Discount what fcant occalion That purity ye pride in, gave, And (what's aft mair than a' the leave) Your better art o' hiding. IV. Think, when your caftigated pulse What ragings must his veins convulfe That ftill eternal gallop: Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail, Right on ye fcud your fea-way; But, in the teeth o' baith to fail, It makes an unco leeway. V. See, Social Life and Glee fit down Till, quite tranfmugrify'd, they're grown · O would they stay to calculate Th' eternal confequences; Or your more dreaded h-ll to ftate, VI. Ye high, exalted, virtuous Dames," Before ye gie poor Frailty names, But let me whisper i' your lug, VII. scan Then gently fean your brother Man, Tho' they may gang a-kennin wrang One point muft ftill be greatly dark, And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. |