r poetic worth;
And if ye see the stream go gliding on
In pleasant ways, through the far distance, spread
On fertile banks, till it at length attain
A fair and undisturbed flow, and give
A beauty to the scenes which round it lie,
Or if it ripple for a weary while,
And die at length into a marshy waste,
Give choice to say the former; for the voice
Of him who doth a tiding good convey
Is sweeter far than his which speaketh ill.

TO THE SAGE.

Ye sages, wise and good, or, if not good,
Though wise, the more thy loss, attend and hear
Awhile, though but a pensive ear ye lend,
If ye will deign to hearken as I speak.
More wont are ye to hear the well-tuned voice
Of classic writer flow in brilliant thought,
Poured from a noble mind, and deep and clear.
Learned of the liberty I take, resolved,
I come thy favor to seduce, and crave
That ye will hearken with a patient heed
Until my story hath been fully told.
Spurn not a man because his years are few,
Or that he seems a novice at the first;
But lend a fair and an impartial heed,
Till he can prove if aught which he can bring,
Is fit to harbour for the worth it holds.
The fame of all the great, first as a bud appears,
And daily spreads till gay perfections shine;
So must it ever be to those who rise;
And thus I claim indulgence at thy hand.
Raised with fair hope, I leave thee to the task,
And trust that of a judgment wise and good
Ye will declare a fair decision, such
As Justice (ever just) would deem it right
To give to one confiding for the truth.
I hold no purpose dark, but proudly tell
I long to bear the barrier down which stays
The narrow path unto the hill of Fame,
And win a way unto the lustrous heights,
When, looking hence, behold the seat of toil,
And they who labor, striving to ascend;
And now in sweet reflection view once more
The days of old, when the like toil was mine.

TO THE PEOPLE.

All ye who form, each in thy mite, the vast
And countless chaos of humanity,
Named, as of use, "The Public," I dispute
No term as base or just, but join thereto
An atom with the motley crowd, resigned,
Of kings, and lords, and people, all as one,
Who hold no claim as critic, seer, or sage,
And spurn the name of Sloth as loathsome to
The ear; who dwell within the pale, and breathe
The air of this delirious age, when pomps
And fashions rage throughout the land, and half
Of all the people know not why they live,
But live to feast on sensual deli