How virtue wars with persecuting fate; [ff]With well-feign'd gratitude the pension'd band Refund the plunder of the beggar'd land. See! while he builds, the gaudy vassals come, And crowd with sudden wealth the rising dome; The price of boroughs and of souls restore; And raise his treasures higher than before. Now bless'd with all the baubles of the great, The polish'd marble and the shining plate, [gg]Orgilio sees the golden pile aspire, And hopes from angry heav'n another fire. [hh]Could'st thou resign the park and play, content, For the fair banks of Severn or of Trent; There might'st thou find some elegant retreat, Some hireling senator's deserted seat; And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land, For less than rent the dungeons of the Strand; There prune thy walks, support thy drooping flowers, Direct thy rivulets, and twine thy bowers; [K] And, while thy grounds a cheap repast afford, Despise the dainties of a venal lord: There ev'ry bush with nature's musick rings; There ev'ry breeze bears health upon its wings; On all thy hours security shall smile, And bless thine evening walk and morning toil. [ii]Prepare for death, if here at night you roam, And sign your will, before you sup from home. [kk] Some fiery fop, with new commission vain, Who sleeps on brambles, till he kills his man; Some frolick drunkard, reeling from a feast, Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest. [ll]Yet e'en these heroes, mischievously gay, Lords of the street, and terrours of the way; Flush'd, as they are, with folly, youth, and wine; Their prudent insults to the poor confine; Afar they mark the flambeau's bright approach, And shun the shining train, and golden coach. [mm]In vain, these dangers past, your doors you close, And hope the balmy blessings of repose; Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair, The midnight murd'rer bursts the faithless bar; Invades the sacred hour of silent rest, [L]And leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast. [nn]Scarce can our fields, such crowds at Tyburn die, With hemp the gallows and the fleet supply. Propose your schemes, ye senatorian band, Whose ways and means[M]support the sinking land: Lest ropes be wanting in the tempting spring, To rig another convoy for the king[N]. [oo]A single gaol, in Alfred's golden reign, Could half the nation's criminals contain; Fair justice, then, without constraint ador'd, Held high the steady scale, but sheath'd the sword [D]; No spies were paid, no special juries known, Blest age! but ah! how different from our own! [pp]Much could I add,--but see the boat at hand, The tide, retiring, calls me from the land: [qq] Farewell!--When youth, and health, and fortune spent, Thou fly'st for refuge to the wilds of Kent; And, tir'd, like me, with follies and with crimes, In angry numbers warn'st succeeding times; Then shall thy friend, nor thou refuse his aid, Still foe to vice, forsake his Cambrian shade; In virtue's cause, once more, exert his rage, Thy satire point, and animate thy page.