Page:An Epistle to Curio - Akenside (1744).djvu/19

 With all that Habit of familiar Fame, Doom'd to exhaust the Dregs of Life in Shame! The sole sad Refuge of thy baffled Art, To act a Statesman's dull, exploded Part, Renounce the Praise no longer in thy Pow'r, Display thy Virtue tho' without a Dow'r, Contemn the giddy Crowd, the vulgar Wind, And shut thy Eyes that others may be blind. Forgive me, Romans, that I bear to smile When shameless Mouths your Majesty defile, Paint you a thoughtless, frantic, headlong Crew, And cast their own Impieties on you. For witness, Freedom, to whose sacred Pow'r My Soul was vow'd from Reason's earliest Hour, How have I stood exulting to survey My Country's Virtues opening in thy Ray! How, with the Sons of every foreign Shore The more I match'd them, honour'd hers the more! Rh