But let the wise and well-instructed hand Once take the shell beneath his just command, In gentle sounds it seems as it complained Till tuned at length to some immortal song, It sounds Jehovah's name, and pours his praise along. RETIREMENT. -studiis florens ignobilis oti. VIRG. Georg. Lib. 4. HACKNEYED in business, wearied at that oar, Which thousands, once fast chained to, quit no more, But which, when life at ebb runs weak and low, All wish, or seem to wish, they could forego; The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade, Pants for the refuge of some rural shade, Where, all his long anxieties forgot Amid the charms of a sequestered spot, Or recollected only to gild o'er, And add a smile to what was sweet before, He may possess the joys he thinks he sees, Improve the remnant of his wasted span, Thus conscience pleads her cause within the breast, From cities humming with a restless crowd, Whose highest praise is that they live in vain, To regions where, in spite of sin and woe, Where mountain, river, forest, field, and grove, In the last scene of such a senseless play, True wisdom will attend his feeble call, And grace his action ere the curtain fall. Souls, that have long despised their heavenly birth, Their wishes all impregnated with earth, For threescore years employed with ceaseless ca re In catching smoke and feeding upon air, Conversant only with the ways of men, Rarely redeem the short remaining ten. Inveterate habits choke the unfruitful heart, Their fibres penetrate its tenderest part, And, draining its nutritious powers to feed To serve the Sovereign we were born to obey. |