Rode the Great Spirit, in th' obedient wind, In yellow clouds slow-sailing from the West. With dawning smiles, the God his votaries bless'd, And taught where deer retir'd to ivy dell, What chosen chief with proud command to' invest; Where crept th' approaching foe, with purpose fell, And where to wind the scout, and war's dark storm dispel." "There, on her lover's tomb, in silence laid, While still, and sorrowing, shower'd the moon's pale beam, 110 At times, expectant, slept the widow'd maid, Her soul far-wandering on the sylphwing'd dream. Wafted from evening skies, on sunny stream, Her darling Youth with silver pinions shone, With voice of music, tun'd to sweetest theme, He told of shell-bright bowers, beyond Not long since liv'd a Farmer plain, Daily they saw his counsels prove 19 "And first, industrious be your lives; Alike employ'd yourselves, and wives: Your children, join'd in labour gay, With something useful fill each day. Those little times of leisure save, Which most men lose, and all men have; The half days, when a job is done; The whole days, when a storm is on. Few know, without a strict account, To what these little times amount: If wasted, while the same your cost, The sums, you might have earn'd, are lost. "Learn small things never to despise: You little think how fast they rise. A rich reward the mill obtains, 'Tho' but two quarts a bushel gains: Still rolling on it's steady rounds, 40 The farthings soon are turn'd to pounds." 50 "Nor think a life of toil severe: No life has blessings so sincere. It's meals so luscious, sleep so sweet, Such vigorous limbs, such health complete, A mind so active, brisk, and gay, As his, who toils the livelong day. A life of sloth drags hardly on; Suns set too late, and rise too soon; Youth, manhood, age, all linger slow, To him, who nothing has to do. The drone, a nuisance to the hive, Stays, but can scarce be said to live; And well the bees, those judges wise, Plague, chase, and sting him, 'till he dies. Lawrence, like him, tho' sav'd from hanging, Yet every day deserves a banging." 60 "Let order o'er your time preside, And method all your business guide. Early begin, and end, your toil; Nor let great tasks your hands embroil. One thing at once, be still begun, Contriv'd, resolv'd, pursued, and done. 70 Hire not, for what yourselves can do; And send not, when yourselves can go; Nor, 'till to-morrow's light, delay What might as well be done today. By steady efforts all men thrive, And long by moderate labour live; While eager toil, and anxious care, Health, strength, and peace and life, impair." But ne'er the gifts of HEAVEN abuse: 100 "In this new World, life's changing round, In three descents, is often found. "The second born to wealth and ease, And taught to think, converse, and please, Ambitious, with his lady-wife, Aims at a higher walk of life. Yet, in those wholesome habits train'd, By which his wealth, and weight, were gain'd, 120 Bids care in hand with pleasure go, 130 The preceding passage includes lines 1-100 in Part VI. The passage which follows is from the Conclusion of the Book, lines 596-682. And, raptur'd with politic life, Her sons pursue the sad defeat, 140 "His heir, train'd only to enjoy, Untaught his mind, or hands, t' employ, 150 Conscious of wealth enough for life, With business, care, and worth, at strife, By prudence, conscience, unrestrain'd, And none, but pleasure's habits gain'd, Whirls on the wild career of sense, Nor danger marks, nor heeds expense. Soon ended is the giddy round; And soon the fatal goal is found. His lands secur'd for borrow'd gold, His houses, horses, herds, are sold. And now, no more for wealth respected, He sinks, by all his friends neglected; Friends, who, before, his vices flatter'd, And liv'd upon the loves he scatter'd. Unacted every worthy part, And pining with a broken heart, To dirtiest company he flies. Whores, gambles, turns a sot, and dies. His children, born to fairer doom, In rags, pursue him to the tomb." "Apprentic'd then to masters stern, Some real good the orphans learn; Are bred to toil, and hardy fare, And grow to usefulness, and care; And, following their great-grandsire's plan, Each slow becomes a useful man." 160 170 To thee, the last refuge of virtue designed, Shall fly from all nations the best of mankind; Here, grateful to heaven, with transport shall bring Their incense, more fragrant than odors of spring. Nor less shall thy fair ones to glory ascend, And Genius and Beauty in harmony blend; The graces of form shall awake pure de sire, And the charms of the soul ever cherish the fire; Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refin'd |