AN ODE .
To scourge the riot and intemperate lust,
Or check the self-sufficient pride of man
Offended Heaven set forth, in vengeance just,
The dire inexorable fury, pain;
Beneath whose griping hand, when she assails,
The firmest spirits sink, the strongest reasoning fails.
Near to the confines of th' infernal den,
Deep in a hollow cave's profound recess,
Her courts she holds; and to the sons of men
Sends out the ministers of dire distress:
Repentance, shame, despair, each acts her part,
Whets the vindictive steel, and aggravates the smart.
He, whose luxurious palate daily rag'd
Earth, air, and ocean, to supply his board;
And to high-relish'd poisons madly chang'd
The wholesome gifts of nature's bounteous lord:
Shall find sick nauseous surfeit taint his blood;
And his abus'd pall'd stomach lothe the daintiest food.
The midnight reveller's intemperate bowl,
To rage and riot fires his furious brain;
Remorse ensues, and agony of soul,
His future life condemn'd to ceaseless pain:
Gout, fever, stone, to madness heighten grief,
And temperance, call'd too late, affords him no relief;
He whose hot blood excites to dangerous joy,
And headlong drives to seek the lewd embrace,
Startled at length, shall in his face descry
The mark indelible of foul disgrace:
Ulcers obscene corrode his aching bones;
And his high raptures change to deep-felt sighs and groans.
The wild extravagant, whose thoughtless hand,
With lavish tasteless pride, commits expence,
Ruin'd, perceives his waining age demand
Sad reparation for his youth's offence:
Upbraiding riot points to follies past,
Presenting hollow want, fit successor to waste.
He too, whose high presuming health defies
Th' almighty hand of heaven to pull him down;
Who slights the care and caution of the wise,
Nor fears hot summer's rage, nor winter's frown:
Some trifling ail shall seize this mighty man,
Blast all his boasted strength, rack every nerve with pain.
Thus nature's God inslicts, by nature's law,
On every crime its proper punishment;
Creating pain to keep mankind in awe,
And moral ills by physical prevent:
In wrath still gracious; claiming still our praise,
E'en in those very groans our chastisements shall raise.
But lest the feeble heart of suffering man
Too low should sink beneath the keen distress;
Lest fell despair, in league with cruel pain,
Should drive him desperate in their wild excess;
Kind Hope her daughter Patience sent from high,
To ease the labouring breast, and wipe the trickling eye.
Hail, mild divinity! calm Patience, hail!
Soft-handed, meek-ey'd maid, yet whose firm breath,
And strong persuasive eloquence prevail
Against the rage of pain, the fear of death:
Come, lenient beauty, spread thy healing wing,
And smooth my restless couch, whilst I thy praises sing.
In all this toilsome round of weary life,
Where dullness teazes or pert noise assails;
Where trifling follies end in serious strife,
And money purchases where merit fails;
What honest spirit would not rise in rage,
If patience lent not aid his passion to assuage?
No state of life but must to patience bow:
The tradesman must have patience for his bill;
He must have patience who to law will go;
And, should he lose his right, more patience still;
Yea, to prevent or heal full many a strife,
How oft, how long must man have patience with his wife.
But heaven grant patience to the wretched wight,
Whom pills, and draughts, and bolusses assail!
Which he must swallow down with all his might;
E'en then, when health, and strength, and spirits sail.
Dear doctors find some gentler ways to kill;
Lighten this load of drugs, contract yon length of bill.
When the dull, prating, loud, long-winded dame,
Her tedious, vague, unmeaning tale repeats;
Perplex'd and wandering round and round her theme,
Till lost and puzzled she all theme forgets;
Yet still talks on with unabating speed;
Good gods! who hears her out must patience have indeed.
So when some grave, deep-learned, sound divine,
Ascends the pulpit, and unfolds his text;
Dark and more dark grows what he would define,
And every sentence more and more perplex'd;
Yet still he blunders on the same blind course,
Teaching his weary'd hearers patience upon force.
Without firm patience who could ever bear
The great man's levee, watching for a smile?
Then with a whisper'd promise in his ear,
Wait its accomplishment a long, long while;
Yet through the bounds of patience if he burst,
Daniel's long weeks of years may be accomplish'd first.
O patience! guardian of the temper'd breast,
Against the insolence of pride and power;
Against the wit's keen sneer, the fool's dull jest;
Against the boaster's lie, told o'er and o'er;
To thee this tributary lay I bring,
By whose firm aid empower'd, in raging pain I sing.
To scourge the riot and intemperate lust,
Or check the self-sufficient pride of man
Offended Heaven set forth, in vengeance just,
The dire inexorable fury, pain;
Beneath whose griping hand, when she assails,
The firmest spirits sink, the strongest reasoning fails.
Near to the confines of th' infernal den,
Deep in a hollow cave's profound recess,
Her courts she holds; and to the sons of men
Sends out the ministers of dire distress:
Repentance, shame, despair, each acts her part,
Whets the vindictive steel, and aggravates the smart.
He, whose luxurious palate daily rag'd
Earth, air, and ocean, to supply his board;
And to high-relish'd poisons madly chang'd
The wholesome gifts of nature's bounteous lord:
Shall find sick nauseous surfeit taint his blood;
And his abus'd pall'd stomach lothe the daintiest food.
The midnight reveller's intemperate bowl,
To rage and riot fires his furious brain;
Remorse ensues, and agony of soul,
His future life condemn'd to ceaseless pain:
Gout, fever, stone, to madness heighten grief,
And temperance, call'd too late, affords him no relief;
He whose hot blood excites to dangerous joy,
And headlong drives to seek the lewd embrace,
Startled at length, shall in his face descry
The mark indelible of foul disgrace:
Ulcers obscene corrode his aching bones;
And his high raptures change to deep-felt sighs and groans.
The wild extravagant, whose thoughtless hand,
With lavish tasteless pride, commits expence,
Ruin'd, perceives his waining age demand
Sad reparation for his youth's offence:
Upbraiding riot points to follies past,
Presenting hollow want, fit successor to waste.
He too, whose high presuming health defies
Th' almighty hand of heaven to pull him down;
Who slights the care and caution of the wise,
Nor fears hot summer's rage, nor winter's frown:
Some trifling ail shall seize this mighty man,
Blast all his boasted strength, rack every nerve with pain.
Thus nature's God inslicts, by nature's law,
On every crime its proper punishment;
Creating pain to keep mankind in awe,
And moral ills by physical prevent:
In wrath still gracious; claiming still our praise,
E'en in those very groans our chastisements shall raise.
But lest the feeble heart of suffering man
Too low should sink beneath the keen distress;
Lest fell despair, in league with cruel pain,
Should drive him desperate in their wild excess;
Kind Hope her daughter Patience sent from high,
To ease the labouring breast, and wipe the trickling eye.
Hail, mild divinity! calm Patience, hail!
Soft-handed, meek-ey'd maid, yet whose firm breath,
And strong persuasive eloquence prevail
Against the rage of pain, the fear of death:
Come, lenient beauty, spread thy healing wing,
And smooth my restless couch, whilst I thy praises sing.
In all this toilsome round of weary life,
Where dullness teazes or pert noise assails;
Where trifling follies end in serious strife,
And money purchases where merit fails;
What honest spirit would not rise in rage,
If patience lent not aid his passion to assuage?
No state of life but must to patience bow:
The tradesman must have patience for his bill;
He must have patience who to law will go;
And, should he lose his right, more patience still;
Yea, to prevent or heal full many a strife,
How oft, how long must man have patience with his wife.
But heaven grant patience to the wretched wight,
Whom pills, and draughts, and bolusses assail!
Which he must swallow down with all his might;
E'en then, when health, and strength, and spirits sail.
Dear doctors find some gentler ways to kill;
Lighten this load of drugs, contract yon length of bill.
When the dull, prating, loud, long-winded dame,
Her tedious, vague, unmeaning tale repeats;
Perplex'd and wandering round and round her theme,
Till lost and puzzled she all theme forgets;
Yet still talks on with unabating speed;
Good gods! who hears her out must patience have indeed.
So when some grave, deep-learned, sound divine,
Ascends the pulpit, and unfolds his text;
Dark and more dark grows what he would define,
And every sentence more and more perplex'd;
Yet still he blunders on the same blind course,
Teaching his weary'd hearers patience upon force.
Without firm patience who could ever bear
The great man's levee, watching for a smile?
Then with a whisper'd promise in his ear,
Wait its accomplishment a long, long while;
Yet through the bounds of patience if he burst,
Daniel's long weeks of years may be accomplish'd first.
O patience! guardian of the temper'd breast,
Against the insolence of pride and power;
Against the wit's keen sneer, the fool's dull jest;
Against the boaster's lie, told o'er and o'er;
To thee this tributary lay I bring,
By whose firm aid empower'd, in raging pain I sing.