Classic Poem

To Mr. R — — G — —

On his Confession of Philosophy .

A H , Sir! with you, I now confess,
Most vain are all our Sciences:
Life is short, and Art so long,
Nature weak, and Knowledge strong:
And, 'ere Industry wins the Day,
Grim Death arrests us on the Way:
But though we could the Goal attain,
And Masters of all Science reign;
Yet still, we must to Death's dread Summons bow,
And go we know not where, and die we know not how.

So, poor unhappy Daphnis strove;
Long sung of Nature, and of Love;
From Greece, and Rome, rich Trophies brought,
And Greek, and Roman Learning taught,
In Notes, which charm'd the Nymphs and Swains,
And echo'd round the British Plains.
But ah! in vain, he Faine pursu'd,
In vain, the fleeting Goddess woo'd;
In vain, he did on Nature's Strength rely,
For humane Frailty got the Victory.

Come then ye Studious, come ye Wise;
Come all who worldly Learning prize;
Of Pylades, now learn to live,
To Pylades, just Honour give:
He, who has Arts great Circle run,
And praise with Admiration won.
Yet now a nobler Path pursues,
And learned Vanity subdues.
He wisely counts his Time and Pains,
And finds 'em far beyond the Gains;
To sacred Truths reveal'd, he then doth fly,
That only sare Support on which we can rely.

'Tis there, we learn our Maker's Will;
There, we praise his mighty Skill;
There, we shun a dreadful Doom;
There, we find a Life to come.
And to those sacred Books we owe
All the solid Good we know:
In each charming Page do shine
Laws both Humane and Divine:
Wond'rous Judgments! Mercies too!
Yet not a Word, but what is true:
And also there by Faith we prove,
The Vastness of Almighty Love:
Thus rais'd on Contemplation's Wings you go.
And leave the mercenary World below.

Proceed, dear Friend, exert thy tuneful Voice
Long be thy Race, and constant be thy Choice
Still love bright Truth, her sacred Myst'ries clear,
Oh still instruct us! and we'll gladly hear:
So may'st thou from the Plagues of Life be free,
As thou, thy Knowledge, do'st impart to me.