d Mansion chuse,
Here dwells the MOTHER of the Heav'n-born Muse:
With wond'rous mystic _Figures_ round 'tis wrought
_Inlaid_ with FANCY, and _anneal'd_ with _Thought_:
With more than humane Skill depicted here
The various _Images of Things_ appear;
What _Was_, or _Is_, or labours yet to _Be_ 80
Within the Womb of Dark _Futurity_,
May _Stowage_ in this wondrous _Storehouse_ find,
Yet leave unnumber'd empty _Cells_ behind:
But ah! as fast they come, they fly too fast,
Not _Life or Happiness are more in haste_:
Only the _First Great Mind_ himself can stay
The _Fugitives_ and at _one Glance_ survey;
But those whom he disdains not to befriend, }
_Uncommon Souls_, who nearest Heav'n ascend }
Far more, at once, than others comprehend: } 90
Whate'er within this _sacred Hall_ you find, }
Whate'er will _lodge_ in your _capacious Mind_ }
Let _Judgment_ sort, and skilful _Method_ bind; }
And as from these you draw your antient Store
Daily supply the _Magazine_ with more.
Furnish'd with such _Materials_ he'll excel
Who when he _works_ is sure to work 'em _well_;
This ART alone, as _Nature_ that bestows,
And in _Perfection_ both, th' accomplish'd _Verser_ knows.
Knows to _persuade_, and how to _speak_, and when; 100
The _Rules of Life_, and _Manners_ knows and _Men_:
Those _narrow Lines_ which _Good_ and _Ill_ divide;
[Sidenote: _Learning_.]
And by what _Balance Just_ and _Right_ are try'd:
How _Kindred-Things_ with _Things_ are closely join'd; }
How _Bodies_ act, and by what _Laws_ confin'd, }
Supported, mov'd and rul'd by th' _Universal Mind_. }
When the moist _Kids_ or burning _Sirius_ rise; }
Through what ambiguous Ways _Hyperion_ flies, }
And marks our _Upper_ or the _Nether Skies_. }
He knows those _Strings_ to _touch_ with artful Hand 110
Which rule Mankind, and all the World command:
What _moves_ the _Soul_, and every secret _Cell_
Where _Pity, Love_, and all the _Passions_ dwell.
The _Music_ of his _Verse_ can _Anger_ raise,
Which with a softer _Stroak_ he _smooths_ and _lays_:
Can _Emulation, Terror_, all excite,
_Compress_ the _Soul_ with _Grief_, or _swell_ with vast Delight.
If this you can, your _Care_ you'll well bestow,
And some new _Milton_ or a _Spencer_ grow;
If not,