Page:All the works of Epictetus - which are now extant; consisting of his Discourses, preserved by Arrian, in four books, the Enchiridion, and fragments (IA allworksofepicte00epic).pdf/8

 Where-e'er I turn, fresh Evils meet my Eyes; Sin, Sorrow, and Disgrace, Pursue the Human Race! There on the Bed of Sickness Virtue lies! See Friendship bleeding by the Sword Of base Ingratitude! See baleful Jealousy intrude, And poison all the Bliss that Love had stor'd! Oh! seal my Ears against the piteous Cry Of Innocence distrest! Nor let me shrink, when Fancy's Eye Beholds the guilty Wretch's Breast Beneath the torturing Pincers heave: Nor for the num'rous Wants of Mis'ry grieve, Which all-disposing Heav'n denies me to relieve!

No longer let my fleeting Joys depend On social, or domestic Ties! Superior let my Spirit rise, Nor in the gentle Counsels of a Friend, Nor in the Smiles of Love, expect Delight: But teach me in myself to find Whate'er can please or fill my Mind. Let inward Beauty charm the mental Sight; Let Godlike Reason, beaming bright, Chace far away each gloomy Shade, Till Virtue's heav'nly Form display'd Alone shall captivate my Soul, And her divinest Love possess me whole!

But, ah! what means this impious Pride, Which heav'nly Hosts deride! Within myself does Virtue dwell? Is all serene, and beauteous there? What mean these chilling Damps of Fear? Tell me, Philosophy! Thou Boaster! Tell: This God-like all-sufficient Mind, Which, in its own Perfection blest, Defies the Woes, or Malice of Mankind To shake its self-possessing Rest, Is