Selected quad for the lemma: ground_n
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A28574
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The Second, fourth, and seventh satyrs of Monsieur Boileau imitated with some other poems and translations, written upon several occasions.
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Boileau Despréaux, Nicolas, 1636-1711.
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1696
(1696)
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Wing B3467; ESTC R19312
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35,238
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152
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Pens-hurst's shady Grove He sung of Sidney and of Love Howe're Dorinda read him thro' And think when ought you like You view Had Phaebus done as much for me I would have said the same of Thee A LETTER To a FRIEND Concerning an University Life RIding to Oxford Sir as slow a pace Perhaps as Hackney Steed in no good case Could carry and cold inclinations to the place Like well staid Alderman whom age had taught To move as dull and heavy as his thought Or as his words when for his Brethrens use Some city Apothegm he 'd produce By that time I Twelve miles from Town had past Out bolts a Parson in such wondrous hast Rushing thro' hedge and leaping over Dike That I for my part never saw the like And strait I ask'd him if he 'd lost his way And what occasion led him thus astray I thought Sir to descry a nearer cut To Oxford than was Ever yet found out For if that Place lye in a line direct I know no reason why I should affect A Circular road and not new ways detect Oh! Sir you always while you live must own The farthest way about 's the nearest home And I believe if you had left your Horse To 's own discretion you 'd ne're far'd the worse For His in this seems greater Far then Yours But if you 'l daign to keep along with me Sir I embrace the opportunity Why then allons Monsieur come on I guess You are a worthy member of that place Pray how d' ye like it between you and me All things with you Sir I suppose agree All very well how can I choose but love That place which no man are could disapprove On any just pretence close by whose side The murmuring streams of gentle Isis glide While Zephirs from the neighbouring Hills inspire The Soul and gently fan Poetick fire There free from noise and in a safe recess We may enjoy a perfect happiness A perfect Happiness pray hold a blow And let 's dispute it out before we go Is their no Helicon but Isis stream And no Parnassus but the hills You name What must we never benefit mankind Thus to one corner of the World confin'd Must we consume our Youthful vigorous days Fit for employment in inglorious ease Pray where 's the satisfaction that is got In letting all men know Your good for nought Why good for nought cause in a close retreat We envy not the glories of the great Free from Ambition that does toil create Ambition is the greatest blessing sure That man could here enjoy or Heav'n conferr How weary would each step of life be gone Wer 't not Ambition that entic'd us on This like a ferment working in the vein Stirs us to action but creates no pain Nor is it thro' a tedious course of ease That we must purchase perfect happiness In business Sir You must your self embroyl There is no pleasure if there is no toyl 'T is from the ills w'have undergone we know Whether we 're truly happy now or no. He that goes always in one even way And meets no rubb's that make him turn or stray No pleasant intervals can e're enjoy Continu'd ease will soon it self destroy No fragrant sweetness does attend that rose Which you are always holding at Your nose Therefore upon this stage let ev'ry man Appear with as much credit as he can What tho' success endeavours don't attend And men of business sometimes miss their end It argues still a lofty generous Soul Whose hopes no fears could ever yet controul 'T is not my business to my self to live There 's yet a nobler end at which I drive Else would it seem as I were brought up here To show how insignificant I were With emulation thus we ought to strive And let our stock of fame our selves survive For 't is a Satisfaction sure too mean Unactive to pass o're lifes lazy scene And then to be as if we 'd never been In short it is the duty that You owe Your Country Sir to come abroad and show Your self if you your duty did but know And if without offence it may be said I think it looks as tho' you were ill bred And if 't is possible worse taught than fed Nay as for learning Sir I hope no parts Of Europe will pretend to half those Arts In such exact perfection as we do 'T is therefore Sir I lay the blame on You. For all the stock of learning that You boast If not imparted to the World is lost What tho' the stream be deep and crystal too If like the Nile it don't the land o'reflow The Oar that 's treasur'd up is sure abus'd And might as well not be as not be us'd So Sir d' ye see a f t for all this stuff Which I and all the World know well enough Will not be worth to e're a poring sot Of all the packing tribe one single groat Therefore the Stagarite from shelf dismount Des Cartes too and turn 'em to account Believe me Sir if You would get by them Translate e'm to the place from whence they came For I must plainly tell you that success Won't follow from the methods you profess For if the gentile learning of the Age You 'r for from this Your self first disengage For if old Statutes many years ago Compil'd are to direct your studies now When those who made e'm had a different tast Of Learning then the world at present has With strait girt doublet then may N on huff And swagger with his Ears beneath a ruff Were open trowsers as they us'd to do Two hundred years since and be still a Beaux This difference indeed may be suppos'd Between You both he only'd be expos'd To th' laughter of the gazing crowd but You To ridicule and disadvantage too And that from the 〈…〉 From what th' old Stagarite had us'd to give With greater Ease then e're he could believe Sir I 'le maintain the Rawest Youngster there Whom too fond Parent 's over forward care Remov'd from Rod toth ' Vniversity As surely thinking that the tender tree If once transplanted to another Soyl Would answer 's expectations and his toyl Even this Spark five terms at least before H' has taken a degree and full Ten more Before he has deserv'd it shall adore Those Ancient Sots whose whimsick brain alone Found out Dame Nature's ways before unknown Whereby she acted or at least she might have done To their opinions having his confin'd With bold assurance he thwarts all mankind Thinks he can't err while in their steps he goes Tho' on what grounds he follows he scarce knows And may to meritorious faith pretend Whilst he beleives what he can't comprehend He never Stoops so low as common sense Too mean a quarry for his just pretence And thinks all us illeterate clowns and fools Who talk not in the jargon of the Schools But give me leave to tell him he 's undone And were he sensible how Far h' had run In a wrong course he gladly would return He 'd come abroad where looking all around At the first view he would his sence confound Start like Columbus on his new found shoar At th' sight of People he ne're saw before Pleas'd with discoveries he had made he 'd cry He 'd found a part o th' world as well as He. Thus much I 'm sure he could not chuse but own He 'd found a part of it to Him unknown More I 'd ha' said but Parson in a huff Thus Syllogistically cut me off Sir since I know not where to mend my lot T is best to be content with what I 've got Ergo d' ye see Sir I 'le not Stir a jot FINIS ERRATA PAge 12. line 20 for wise r. Wise p. 25. l. 2. sease r. seize p. 34. l. 1. there r. their l. 14. loose r. lose p. 35. l. 1. r. Impostour p. 51. l. 9. suppriss'd r. suppress'd p. 52. l. 16. amas'd r. amaz'd p. 55. l. 2. to r. too p. 64. l. 11. Id'as r. Ida's p. 68. l. 3. to r. too p. 78. l. 4. fare r. fair p. 80. omit the point that follows stream p. 82. Pray r. prey p. 92. l. 11. could r. I could p. 109. l. 14. radient r. radiant