The Works of Alexander Pope Esq

Quinquennes oleas eft, et fylveftria corna;

Ac, nifi mutatum, parcit defundere vinum; et Cujus odorem olei nequeas perferre (licebit

Ille repotia, natales, aliofque dierum

Feftos albatus celebret) cornu ipfe bilibri Caulibus inftillat, * veteris non parcus aceti.

Quali igitur victu fapiens utetur, et horum Utrum imitabitur? hac urget lupus, hac canis, aiunt. ▾ Mundus erit, qua non offendat fordibus, atque In neutram partem cultus mifer. Hic neque fervis Albuti fenis exemplo, dum munia didit,

Saevus erit; nec fic ut fimplex b Naevius, un&tam

Convivis praebebit aquam: vitium hoc quoque ma

gnum.

• Accipe nunc, victus tenuis quae quantaque fecum Afferat. In primis valeas bene; nam variae res Ut noceant homini, credas, memor illius efcae, Quae fimplex olim tibi federit. at fimul affis Mifcueris elixa, fimul conchylia turdis;

Dulcia fe in bilem vertent, ftomachoque tumultum Lenta feret pituita. f Vides, ut pallidus omnis

Sell their presented partridges, and fruits,
And humbly live on rabbits and on roots:

One half pint bottle ferves them both to dine, And is at once their vinegar and wine.

But on fome lucky day (as when they found

A loft Bank-bill, or heard their Son was drown'd)
At fuch a feast, * old vinegar to fpare,

Is what two fouls fo gen'rous cannot bear :
Oyl, tho' it stink, they drop by drop impart,
But fowse the cabbage with a bounteous heart.

y He knows to live, who keeps the middle state,
And neither leans on this fide, nor on that;
Nora ftops, for one bad cork, his butler's pay,
Swears, like Albutius, a good cook away;
Nor lets, like Nævius, ev'ry error pafs,
The mufty wine, foul cloth, or greafy glass.

Now hear what bleffings Temperance can bring:

(Thus faid our Friend, and what he said I fing)

First Health: The ftomach (cramm'd from ev'ry

dish,

A tomb of boil'd and roast, and flesh and fish,
Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar,
And all the man is one inteftine war)

Remembers oft the School-boy's fimple fare,

The temp'rate fleeps, and spirits light as air.

f How pale, each Worshipful and Rev'rend gueft

Rife from a Clergy, or a City feast!

Coena defurgat dubia? quin corpus onuftum
Hefternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat una,
Atque affigit humo divinae particulam aurae.
• Alter, ubi dicto citius curata fopori

Membra dedit, vegetus praefcripta ad munia furgit.
Hic tamen ad melius poterit tranfcurrere quondam ;
Sive diem feftum rediens advexerit annus,

Seu recreare volet tenuatum corpus : ubique
Accedent anni, et tractari mollius aetas

Imbecilla volet. ¡ Tibi quidnam accedet ad iftam,
Quam puer et validus praefumis, mollitiem; feu
Dura valetudo inciderit, feu tarda fenectus ?

*Rancidum aprum antiqui laudabant: non quia nafus Illis nullus erat; fed, credo, hac mente, quod hofpes Tardius adveniens vitiatum commodius, quam

NOTES.

VER. 80. The Soul fubfides, and wickedly inclines To Seem but mortal, ev'n in found Divines.] Horace was an Epicurean, and laughed at the immortality of the foul. He therefore defcribes that languor of the mind proceeding from intemperance, on the idea, and in the terms of Plato,

affigit humo divinae particulam aurae.

To this his ridicule is pointed. Our Poet, with more fo briety and judgment, has turned the ridicule, from the Doctrine, which he believed, upon those Preachers of it, whofe fealts and compotations in Taverns did not edify

What life in all that ample body, say?
What heav'nly particle infpires the clay?
The Soul fubfides, and wickedly inclines
To feem but mortal, ev'n in found Divines.

• On morning wings how active springs the Mind That leaves the load of yesterday behind?

How eafy ev'ry labour it pursues?

How coming to the Poet ev'ry Mufe?

1 Not but we may exceed, fome holy time,
Or tir'd in fearch of Truth, or fearch of Rhyme;
Ill health fome juft indulgence may engage,
And more the fickness of long life, Old age;
i For fainting Age what cordial drop remains,
If our intemp❜rate Youth the vessel drains?

* Our fathers prais'd rank Ven'fon. You suppose Perhaps, young men! our fathers had no nose. Not fo: a Buck was then a week's repast,

And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it laft; 100 More pleas'd to keep it till their friends should come Than eat the sweetest by themselves at home.

NOTES.

him and so has added furprizing humour and spirit to the eafy elegance of the Original.

VER. 82. On morning wings etc.] Much happier and nobler than the Original.

VER. 87. Ortir'd in fearch of Truth, or fearch of Rhyme.] A fine ridicule on the extravagance of human puriuits; where the moft trifling and most important concerns of life fucceed one another, indifferently.