Classic Poem

All men's intrigues and projects tend,
By several courses, to one end;
To compass, by the properest shows,
Whatever their designs propose;
And that which owns the fair'st pretext
Is often found the indirect'st.
Hence 'tis, that hypocrites still paint
Much fairer than the real saint,
And knaves appear more just and true
Than honest men, that make less shew:
The dullest idiots in disguise
Appear more knowing than the wise;
Illiterate dunces, undiscern'd,
Pass on the the rabble for the learn'd;
And cowards, that can damn and rant,
Pass muster for the valiant:
For he that has but impudence,
To all things has a just pretence,
And, put among his wants but shame,
To all the world may lay his claim.

How various and innumerable
Are those, who live upon the rabble?
'Tis they maintain the church and state,
Employ the priest and magistrate;
Bear all the charge of government,
And pay the public fines and rent;
Defray all taxes and excises,
And impositions of all prices;
Bear all the' expense of peace and war,
And pay the pulpit and the bar;
Maintain all churches and religions,
And give their pastors exhibitions;
And those who have the greatest flocks
Are primitive and orthodox;
Support all schismatics and sects,
And pay 'em for tormenting texts;
Take all their doctrines off their hands,
And pay 'em in good rents and lands;
Discharge all costly offices,
The doctor's and the lawyer's fees,
The hangman's wages, and the scores
Of caterpillar bawds and whores;
Discharge all damages and costs
Of Knights and Squires of the Post;
All statesmen, cutpurses, and padders,
And pay for all their ropes and ladders;
All pettifoggers, and all sorts
Of markets, churches, and of courts;
All sums of money paid or spent,
With all the charges incident,
Laid out, or thrown away, or giv'n
To purchase this world, hell, or heav'n.

S HOULD once the world resolve to' abolish
All that's ridiculous and foolish,
It would have nothing left to do,
To' apply in jest or earnest to,
No business of importance, play,
Or state, to pass its time away.
T HE world would be more just, if truth and lies,
And right and wrong, did bear an equal price;
But since impostors are so highly rais'd,
And faith and justice equally debas'd,
Few men have tempers, for such paltry gains
To' undo themselves with drudgery and pains.
T HE sottish world without distinction looks
On all that passes on the' account of books;
And when there are two scholars, that within
The species only hardly are a kin,
The world will pass for men of equal knowledge,
If equally they' ve loiter'd in a college.
C RITICS are like a kind of flies that breed
In wild fig-trees, and, when they're grown up, feed
Upon the raw fruit of the nobler kind,
And, by their nibbling on the outward rind,
Open the pores, and make way for the sun
To ripen it sooner than he would have done.
As all Fanatics preach, so all men write
Out of the strength of gifts and inward light,
In spite of art; as horses thorough pac'd
Were never taught, and therefore go more fast.
I N all mistakes, the strict and regular
Are found to be the desp'rat'st ways to err,
And worst to be avoided, as a wound
Is said to be the harder cur'd that's round;
For error and mistake the less they' appear,
In the' end are found to be the dangerouser;
As no man minds those clocks that use to go
Apparently too over-fast or slow.
T HE truest characters of ignorance
Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance;
As blind men use to bear their noses higher
Than those that have their eyes and sight entire.
T HE metaphysic's but a puppet motion
That goes with screws, the notion of a notion;
The copy of a copy, and lame draught
Unnaturally taken from a thought;
That counterfeits all pantomimic tricks,
And turns the eyes like an old crucifix;
That counterchanges whatsoe'er it calls
By' another name, and makes it true or false;
Turns truth to falsehood, falsehood into truth,
By virtue of the Babylonian's tooth.
'Tis not the art of schools to understand,
But make things hard, instead of being explain'd;
And therefore those are commonly the learn'dest
That only study between jest and earnest:
For when the end of learning's to pursue
And trace the subtle steps of false and true,
They ne'er consider how they're to apply,
But only listen to the noise and cry,
And are so much delighted with the chase,
They never mind the taking of their preys.
M ORE proselytes and converts use to' accrue
To false persuasions than the right and true;
For error and mistake are infinite,
But truth has but one way to be i' the' right;
As numbers may to' infinity be grown,
But never be reduc'd to less than one.
All wit and fancy, like a diamond,
The more exact and curious 'tis ground,
Is forc'd for every carat to abate
As much in value as it wants in weight.
T HE great St. Lewis, king of France,
Fighting against Mahometans,
In Egypt, in the holy war,
Was routed and made prisoner:
The Sultan then, into whose hands
He and his army fell, demands
A thousand weight of gold, to free
And set them all at liberty.
The king pays down one half o' the' nail,
And for the other offers bail,
The pyx, and in 't the eucharist,
The body of our Saviour Christ.
The Turk consider'd, and allow'd
The king's security for good:
Such credit had the Christian zeal,
In those days, with an Infidel,
That will not pass for twopence now,
Among themselves, 'tis grown so low.
T HOSE that go up hill use to bow
Their bodies forward, and stoop low,
To poise themselves, and sometimes creep,
When the' way is difficult and steep:
So those at court, that do address
By low ignoble offices,
Can stoop to any thing that's base,
To wriggle into trust and grace,
Are like to rise to greatness sooner
Than those that go by worth and honour.
All acts of grace, and pardon, and oblivion,
Are meant of services that are forgiven,
And not of crimes delinquents have committed,
And rather been rewarded than acquitted.
Lions are kings of beasts, and yet their pow'r
Is not to rule and govern, but devour:
Such savage kings all tyrants are, and they
No better than mere beasts that do obey.
N OTHING'S more dull and negligent
Than an old lazy government,
That knows no interest of state,
But such as serves a present strait,
And to patch up, or shift, will close,
Or break alike, with friends or foes;
That runs behind hand, and has spent
Its credit to the last extent;
And the first time 'tis at a loss,
Has not one true friend nor one cross.
T HE Devil was the first o' the' name
From whom the race of rebels came,
Who was the first bold undertaker
Of bearing arms against his Maker,
And though miscarrying in the' event,
Was never yet known to repent,
Though tumbled from the top of bliss
Down to the bottomless abyss;
A property which, from their prince,
The family owns ever since,
And therefore ne'er repent the evil
They do or suffer, like the devil.
T HE worst of rebels never arm
To do their king or country harm,
But draw their swords to do them good,
As doctors cure by letting blood.
No seared conscience is so fell
As that which has been burnt with zeal;
For Christian charity 's as well
A great impediment to zeal,
As zeal a pestilent disease
To Christian charity and peace.
As thistles wear the softest down,
To hide their prickles till they're grown,
And then declare themselves, and tear
Whatever ventures to come near;
So a smooth knave does greater feats
Than one that idly rails and threats,
And all the mischief that he meant
Does, like a rattlesnake, prevent.
M AN is supreme lord and master
Of his own ruin and disaster;
Controls his fate, but nothing less
In ordering his own happiness;
For all his care and providence
Is too, too feeble a defence
To render it secure and certain
Against the injuries of Fortune;
And oft, in spite of all his wit,
Is lost with one unlucky hit,
And ruin'd with a circumstance,
And mere punctilio, of chance.
D AME Fortune, some men's tutelar,
Takes charge of them without their care,
Does all their drudgery and work,
Like Fairies, for them in the dark;
Conducts them blindfold, and advances
The naturals by blinder chances;
While others by desert or wit
Could never make the matter hit,
But still the better they deserve,
Are but the abler thought to starve.
G REAT wits have only been referr'd,
In princes' trains to be interr'd,
And, when they cost them nothing, plac'd
Among their followers not the last;
But while they liv'd, were far enough
From all admittances kept off.
As gold, that's proof against the' assay,
Upon the touchstone wears away;
And having stood the greater test,
Is overmaster'd by the least:
So some men, having stood the hate
And spiteful cruelty of Fate,
Transported with a false caress
Of unacquainted happiness,
Lost to humanity and sense,
Have fall'n as low as insolence.
I NNOCENCE is a defence
For nothing else but patience;
'T will not bear out the blows of Fate,
Nor fence against the tricks of state;
Nor from the' oppression of the laws
Protect the plain'st and justest cause;
Nor keep unspotted a good name
Against the obloquies of Fame;
Feeble as Patience, and as soon,
By being blown upon, undone:
As beasts are hunted for their furs,
Men for their virtues fare the worse.
W HO doth not know with what fierce rage
Opinions, true or false, engage?
And, 'cause they govern all mankind,
Like the blind's leading of the blind,
All claim an equal interest,
And free dominion, o'er the rest.
And as one shield that fell from Heav'n
Was counterfeited by eleven,
The better to secure the fate
And lasting empire of a state,
The false are numerous, and the true,
That only have the right, but few.
Hence fools, that understand 'em least,
Are still the fiercest in contest;
Unsight, unseen, espouse a side
At random, like a prince's bride,
To damn their souls, and swear and lie for,
And at a venture live and die for.
O PINION governs all mankind,
Like the blind's leading of the blind;
For he that has no eyes in's head,
Must be by' a dog glad to be led;
And no beasts have so little in 'em
As that inhuman brute, Opinion:
'Tis an infectious pestilence,
The tokens upon wit and sense,
That with a venomous contagion
Invades the sick imagination;