Classic Poem

When first to Think your active Mind essay'd,
And young Ideas in your Fancy play'd,
While dawning Reason's unexperienc'd Ray
Drew a faint Scetch of Intellectual Day,
Your Parents, who the Laws of Heav'n revere,
And make Immortal Bliss their pious Care,
Assiduous strove by mild Instructive Light
To form your pliant Infancy aright.
Knowledge Divine they by degrees bestow'd,
And with blest Seed your Heart industrious sow'd,
Whence verdant Issues soon began to shoot;
A Bloom ensu'd, that promis'd generous Fruit.
Drawn by their Pray'r, from Heav'n descending Dews
Cheer the fair Plant, and Heat Divine infuse:
While watchful they destroy'd the springing Weeds,
Baneful to Virtue, which our Bosom breeds,
Nature's spontaneous Growth, that no Assistant needs.

Nor did your disappointed Friends complain
Their Hopes were idle, or their Labour vain.
Religion thriv'd, with pious Precepts fed,
And crown'd with Blossoms rais'd her sacred Head.
A Blow of Virtues, all of heav'nly Kind,
Mingled their Beauties, and adorn'd your Mind,
While Neighbours round unusual Joy exprest,
Admir'd the Son, and call'd the Parents blest,
Thinking your early Merit must presage
Uncommon Blessings to the coming Age.
But now the Season rolling on the Tide
Of Time arrives, when in the fullest Pride
Of Youth, your Virtue must the Test abide;
And to excite your Vigilance and Care,
The threatning Dangers, which attend you, hear.

Now downy Honours grace your manly Chin,
And high Spring-Tides with bounding Life begin
To smell your Veins, while active Spirits sport,
And Nature triumphs in her Vital Court;
Now, when unbridled Passions use to reign,
While vanquish'd Reason wears the Victor's Chain,
See Pleasure, fair and smiling as the Morn,
(Soft Silks her Limbs, gay Flow'rs her Head adorn)
Which with her Breath perfumes the ambient Air,
While sporting Zephyrs heave her golden Hair,
Midst her bright Train exerts her conq'ring Charms,
And beckning calls you to her open Arms.

Millions the beauteous Sorceress destroys
With her sweet Poison and bewitching Joys;
Bath'd in Delight, their Sinews feeble grow,
Lose manly Hardness and dissolving flow.
Her fatal Eyes, like Stars malignant, blast
Religion's Shoots, and lay her Garden wast;
Where Virtue flourish'd in her kindly Bed,
Now rank luxuriant Plants their Venom shed,
And Broods of Vermin from infernal Seed,
Detested Offspring! unmolested breed.

At first we play along the flow'ry Brink,
View the suspected Stream, and trembling drink;
Affronted Reason stings us with Remorse,
Suggests the Danger and obstructs our Course;
For Nature yet her Modesty retains,
Starts to behold her ignominious Stains,
And grieves her Beauties are so much defac'd,
Her high Descent and Dignity debas'd;
But the sweet Bowl's intoxicating Fume
Will by degrees our vanquish'd Sense benumb,
And o'er the Mind diffuse Egyptian Gloom.
Now Nightly Horrors cease to haunt the Head,
And we no more familiar Danger dread.
Our faithful Censor laid asleep within,
We undisturb'd take down full Draughts of Sin.
Repeated Prostitutions conquer Shame,
Assure the Face, and struggling Reason tame.

Tho' Youth untaught in Virtues heav'nly School,
Who ne'er rever'd Religion's sacred Rule,
Make swift Improvements, and with little Pain,
Mature in Vice, an Eminence attain.
Should you the Reins to guilty Passions give,
And to suppress reluctant Conscience strive,
You must maintain a long uncertain Field,
By Turns prevail, by Turns inglorious yield.
You'd sin and grieve, and by alternate Course
Know fleeting Joy, and permanent Remorse.
Now you would taste forbidden Fruit, and now
Repent your Folly, and renew your Vow:
Thus will your Mind a constant Strife sustain,
Amus'd with false Delight, or rack'd with real Pain.

Should you at length decide the doubtful War,
Renounce to Virtue, and for Vice declare,
You'll ne'er in Triumph captive Reason lead,
On Conscience wholly conquer'd never tread.
That dreadful Worm may long enchanted lie,
And roll'd in Volumes sleep, but cannot die;
Rousing at Times, indignant 'twill exert
Immortal Rage, and sting you to the Heart.

When Sickness, from intemp'rate Pleasure bred,
Confines you trembling to your restless Bed,
Where Musick, Wine and Wit would strive in vain,
To cool your Fever, and appease your Pain;
See, Death approaches with a horrid Pace,
Points to the Grave, and stares you in the Face:
How will the ghastly Form your Soul affright?
How will you start, and shudder at the Sight?
And while your conscious Mind shall recollect
Past Scenes of Life, and on your Crimes reflect,
What Gripes, what Throws, what Torment, what Despair,
Will seize your Vitals, and your Bosom tear?

While Sense of Guilt not wholly is supprest,
Misgiving Thoughts must interrupt your Rest;
The hardy Atheist, and the Libertine,
Who, Slaves to Vice, ne'er tasted Joys Divine,
May pass in Peace their Guilty Hours, which you
Who once did Heav'n revere, can never do;
Call to your Aid the Arts of Earth and Hell,
Th' upbraiding Guest within you'll ne'er expel.

I tremble now, to see your Trial near,
Distrust your Firmness, and your Danger fear:
The mighty Strength of Pleasure do you know,
Can you to all her Charms Resistance show,
And Victor, triumph o'er this lovely Foe;
To all the fair Seducer's Beauty cold,
Fly from her Arms, or loose her clasping Hold?

Should you presumptuous, quit your safer Ground,
And seek the utmost Lines, which Vertue bound,
And on the Frontier to engage the Foe,
With Reason's weak collected Forces go,
You'll soon those nice, ill-guarded Limits pass,
Throw down your Arms, and fond her Feet embrace,
In her soft Snares her Pris'ner she'll detain,
And will you then have Pow'r to break her Chain?

Then view the hostile Charmer from afar,
And not advance to meet unequal War.
Cautious retreat, and fly th' enchanting Sight,
You'll only conquer by a Running Fight:
Intrepid Courage is destructive here,
Where Victors win the Laurels, which they wear,
By gen'rous Flight, and wise heroick Fear.

The Foe has secret Friends within your Breast,
Persidious Passions, which dissemble Rest;
All these, should you approach her Camp too near,
Rising in Arms, against you will declare.
By this strong Party lurking in your Heart,
Reason seduc'd, will to her Side desert.
The Fort of Virtue thus will be betray'd,
And you, uncautious Youth, a Captive made.

If in her Magick Circle you are caught,
Not yet benum'd and hard, correct your Fault;
Spring from her treach'rous Arms, and swift return,
Blush at your Folly, and your Error mourn.
Never despairing to the Sorc'ress yield,
Tho' wounded, still unconquer'd, keep the Field;
With Vows renew'd, and more attentive Care,
Against the Foe maintain eternal War.

While Pleasure draws her Forces in array,
Attentive to invade you ev'ry Way,
Your Virtue unexperienc'd and untry'd,
A Test of equal Danger must abide,
While you on Profit and Promotion bent,
Studious contend your Fortune to augment.

How will you gain the Favour of the Great,
Who Heav'n's Adorers with Derision treat?
With scornful Feet divine Religion spurn,
Against her Altars all their Battries turn,
Far from their Breast detested Vertue drive,
And to suppress their conscious Censor strive.

See, a strong Faction, sacred Light deny,
Plunge deep in Vice, and threaten'd Wrath defy;
Watchful to spread th' Infection they reveal
To Heav'n Immortal Hate, for Hell an ardent Zeal;
By Toleration bold, at Empire aim,
And haughty by Success, their Strength proclaim.
Those, who their Smiles and Patronage procure,
Must take their Test, and pious Creeds abjure.
They mock the Good, and only those support,
Who by distinguish'd Leudness make their Court.
Whate'er to break your Morals they pretend,
Stedfast on this unerring Rule depend,
They none but Party-Criminals befriend.

Should you reluctant Virtue's Cause decline,
Studious suppress your Sense of Truths Divine,
And bashful with their Ways in part comply,
You would in vain to win their Favour try.
You from your Breast must root Religion's Weed,
Not only sin, but disbelieve your Creed.
It must by daring Blasphemy be known,
By Principle you're Leud, and all their own.
Should you at length from Virtue's Camp desert,
To please your Patrons with Religion part,
Still a new Convert they'll suspect, and fear
You'r Change is feign'd, your Vices unsincere.
You by distinguish'd Crimes must Credit win,
Fam'd for strange Guilt, and new enormous Sin.
You Piety must Superstition name,
Exclaim that all Religions are the same;
The Prejudice of Education mourn,
And laugh your Parents pious Care to scorn.

Besides Applause, Esteem and general Love,
Another Test will your Religion prove,
Reveal you to your self, and faithful show
If from celestial Seed your Virtues grow.

Your clean, well-manner'd Wit, that flows with Ease,
With unaffected Strains must always please.
Nor sparing, nor yet lavish of your Store,
You never are redundant, never poor:
When you should entertain, you ne'er decline
The Season, nor impertinently shine.
You no Resentment by your Satyre raise,
Nor kindle Blushes by your decent Praise,
While your surprizing Turns the Audience charm,
And all the envious of their Spleen disarm.
These shining Parts, this elegant Address,
Will gain to Men of highest Rank Access:
All to your Conversation will aspire,
Applaud your Humour, and your Sense admire,
Parties of Pleasure will your Presence court,
And Crowds of Flatt'rers to your House resort.
While all shall you the Man in Fashon own,
The rising Wit and Darling of the Town.

When thus admir'd, applauded and carest,
Will modest Thoughts possess your humble Breast?
Can you such Praises unelated hear?
May not this cheering Breath, this soothing Air,
Nourish too fast Vain-Glory's secret Root,
And make its rank pernicious Branches shoot,
Till on your Mind they baneful Blossoms spread,
And drop malignant Dews on Virtue's tender Head?

While you your Hours amid'st Admirers spend,
And scarce to all their Favours can attend,
Will not your Mind uncultivated lie,
Religion languish, and Devotion die?
Without a Will or Leisure to reflect
You'll Heav'n forget, and sacred Rules neglect.
A sensual Tincture will pervert your Taste
Of Things Divine, with Rapture once embrac't.
And now the fair Ideas, which possest
Your Mind, by loose and vicious Thoughts opprest,
How will you wing your Way to Realms above,
And feast your Soul with Extasies of Love?

Conscious of Guilt, you'll not to Heav'n apply,
But dread your Judge, and from his Presence fly.
The coming World will cease to be your Care,
Formal your Thanks, and cold will be your Pray'r
To pure Religion you'll Indifference show,
And that Indiff'rence will Aversion grow.
Thus you'll proceed, till Heav'n severely kind,
By sharp Affliction shall correct your Mind;
Gracious arrest you in your headlong Race,
And make you Virtue's Cause again embrace;
Or angry let you plung'd in guilty Joys,
Obdurate perish by your fatal Choice.