Of glory on the consecrated hour Of man, in audience with the Deity. Who worships the great God, that instant joins The first in heaven, and sets his foot on hell. Lorenzo! when wast thou at church before? Thou think'st the service long: but is it just? Though just, unwelcome: thou hadst rather tread Unhallow'd ground; the Muse, to win thine ear, 729 Must take an air less solemn. She complies. Good conscience! at the sound the world retires; Verse disaffects it, and Lorenzo smiles: Yet has she her seraglio full of charms; And such as age shall heighten, not impair. Art thou dejected? Is thy mind o'ercast? Amid her fair ones, thou the fairest choose, To chase thy gloom.--"Go, fix some weighty truth; Chain down some passion; do some generous good; Teach ignorance to see, or grief to smile; Correct thy friend; befriend thy greatest foe; 740 Or with warm heart, and confidence divine, Spring up, and lay strong hold on Him who made thee." Thy gloom is scatter'd, sprightly spirits flow; Though wither'd is thy vine, and harp unstrung. Dost call the bowl, the viol, and the dance, Loud mirth, mad laughter? Wretched comforters! Physicians! more than half of thy disease. Laughter, though never censured yet as sin (Pardon a thought that only seems severe), Is half immoral: Is it much indulged? 750 By venting spleen, or dissipating thought, It shows a scorner, or it makes a fool; And sins, as hurting others, or ourselves. 'Tis pride, or emptiness, applies the straw, That tickles little minds to mirth effuse; Of grief approaching, the portentous sign! The house of laughter makes a house of woe. A man triumphant is a monstrous sight; A man dejected is a sight as mean. What cause for triumph, where such ills abound? 760 What for dejection, where presides a Power, Who call'd us into being to be bless'd? So grieve, as conscious, grief may rise to joy; 763 So joy, as conscious, joy to grief may fall. Most true, a wise man never will be sad; But neither will sonorous, bubbling mirth, A shallow stream of happiness betray: Too happy to be sportive, he's serene. Yet would'st thou laugh (but at thy own expense), This counsel strange should I presume to give-- 770 "Retire, and read thy Bible, to be gay." There truths abound of sovereign aid to peace; Ah! do not prize them less, because inspired, As thou, and thine, are apt and proud to do. If not inspired, that pregnant page had stood, Time's treasure, and the wonder of the wise! Thou think'st, perhaps, thy soul alone at stake; Alas!--should men mistake thee for a fool;-- What man of taste for genius, wisdom, truth, Though tender of thy fame, could interpose? 780 Believe me, sense here acts a double part, And the true critic is a Christian too.