E’en now the devastation is begun, 395 And half the business of destruction done; E’en now, methinks, as pond’ring here I stand, I see the rural virtues leave the land: Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with ev’ry gale, 400 Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. Contented toil, and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness, are there; And piety, with wishes plac’d above, 405 And steady loyalty, and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit in these degenerate times of shame, To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame; 410 Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, That found’st me poor at first, and keep’st me so; Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel, 415 Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well! Farewell, and Oh! where’er thy voice be tried, On Torno’s cliffs, or Pambamarca’s side, Whether where equinoctial fervours glow, Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, 420 Still let thy voice, prevailing over time, Redress the rigours of th’ inclement clime; Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strain Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain; Teach him, that states of native strength possess’d, 425 Though very poor, may still be very bless’d; That trade’s proud empire hastes to swift decay, As ocean sweeps the labour’d mole away; While self-dependent power can time defy, As rocks resist the billows and the sky. 430 LYRICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES LYRICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES PART OF A PROLOGUE WRITTEN AND SPOKEN BY THE POET LABERIUS A ROMAN KNIGHT, WHOM CAESAR FORCED UPON THE STAGE PRESERVED BY MACROBIUS. WHAT! no way left to shun th’ inglorious stage, And save from infamy my sinking age! Scarce half alive, oppress’d with many a year, What in the name of dotage drives me here? A time there was, when glory was my guide, 5 Nor force nor fraud could turn my steps aside; Unaw’d by pow’r, and unappall’d by fear, With honest thrift I held my honour dear; But this vile hour disperses all my store, And all my hoard of honour is no more. 10 For ah! too partial to my life’s decline, Caesar persuades, submission must be mine; Him I obey, whom heaven itself obeys, Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclin’d to please. Here then at once, I welcome every shame, 15 And cancel at threescore a life of fame; No more my titles shall my children tell, The old buffoon will fit my name as well; This day beyond its term my fate extends, For life is ended when our honour ends. 20