Of gentle blood (part shed in Honour's cause. While yet in _Britain_ Honour had applause) Each parent sprung--A. What fortune, pray?--P. Their own, And better got, than _Bestia's_ from the throne. Born to no Pride, inheriting no Strife, 390 Nor marrying Discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious thro' his age. Nor Courts he saw, no suits would ever try, Nor dar'd an Oath, nor hazarded a Lie. 395 Un-learn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art, No language, but the language of the heart. By Nature honest, by Experience wise, Healthy by temp'rance, and by exercise; His life, tho' long, to sickness past unknown, 400 His death was instant, and without a groan. O grant me, thus to live, and thus to die! Who sprung from Kings shall know less joy than I. O Friend! may each domestic bliss be thine! Be no unpleasing Melancholy mine: 405 Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of reposing Age, With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath, Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of Death, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, 410 And keep a while one parent from the sky! On cares like these if length of days attend, May Heav'n, to bless those days, preserve my friend, Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene, And just as rich as when he serv'd a QUEEN. 415 A. Whether that blessing be deny'd or giv'n, Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav'n. * * * * * ODE ON SOLITUDE Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, 5 Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, 10 In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mixt; sweet recreation; And Innocence, which most does please 15 With meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. 20 * * * * * THE DESCENT OF DULLNESS [From the 'Dunciad', Book IV]