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A. 'Twould thin the ranks of the poetic tribe, To dalh the pen through all that

you proscribe. B. No matter—we could shift when they were not, And should no doubt if they were all forgot.

THE

THE PROGRESS OF ERROR.

Si quid loquar audiendum.

Hor. LIB. 4. OD. 2.

a May find a muse to grace it with a song) By what unseen and unsuspected arts The serpent error twines round human hearts, Tell where she lurks, beneath what flow'ry shades, That not a glimpse of genuine light pervades, The pois’nous, black, insinuating worm, Successfully conceals her loathsome form.

Take

Take, if ye can, ye careless and supine ! Counsel and caution from a voice like mine Truths that the theorist could never reach, And obfervation taught me, I would teach.

Not all whose eloquence the fancy fills, Musical as the chime of tinkling rills, Weak to perform, though mighty to pretend, Can trace her mazy windings to their end, Discern the fraud beneath the specious lure, Prevent the danger, or prescribe the cure. The clear harangue, and cold as it is clear, Falls soporific on the liftless ear, Like quicksilver, the rhet'ric they display, Shines as it runs, but grasp'd at Nips away.

Plac'd for his trial on this bustling stage, From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, Free in his will to chuse or to refuse, Man may improve the crisis, or abuse, Else, on the fatalists unrighteous plan, Say, to what bar amenable were man?

With nought in charge, he could betray no trust,
And if he fell, would fall because he must;
If love reward him, or if vengeance itrike,
His recompence in both, unjust alike.
Divine authority within his breast
Brings every thought, word, action to the test,
Warns him or prompts, approves him or restrains,
As reason, or as passion, takes the reins.
Heav’n from above, and conscience from within,
Cry in his startled ear, abstain from fin.
The world around solicits his desire,
And kindles in his soul a treach'rous fire,
While all his purposes and steps to guard,
Peace follows virtue as its sure reward,
And pleasure brings as surely in her train,
Remorse and forrow and vindictive pain.
Man thus endued with an elective voice,
Must be supplied with objects of his choice.
Where'er he turns, enjoyment and delight,
Or present, or in prospect, meet his light;

These

These open on the spot their honey'd store,
Those call him loudly to pursuit of more.
His unexhausted mine, the sordid vice
Avarice shows, and virtue is the price.
Here, various motives his ambition raise,
Pow'r,

pomp, and splendor, and the thirst of praise; There beauty woos him with expanded arms, E'en Bacchanalian madness has its charms,

Nor these alone, whose pleasures less refin’d,
Might well alarm the most unguarded mind,
Seek to supplant his unexperienced youth,
Or lead him devious from the path of truth,
Hourly allurements on his pasions press,
Safe in themselves, but dang’rous in th’excess.

Hark! how it foats upon the dewy air,
O what a dying, dying close was there !
'Tis harmony from yon sequefter'd bow'r,
Sweet harmony that sooths the midnight hour;
Long e'er the charioteer of day had run
His morning course, th' enchantment was begun,

And

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