Page:An Essay on Man - Pope (1751).pdf/57

 Immense the pow'r, immense were the demand, Say, At what part of nature will they stand? nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The soul's calm sun-shine, and the heart-felt joy, Is virtue's prize: A better would you fix? Then give humility a coach and six, Justice a conq'ror's sword, or truth a gown, Or public spirit, its great cure, a crown. Weak, foolish man! will heav'n reward us there With the same trash mad mortals wish for here? The boy and man an individual makes, Yet sigh'st thou now for apples and for cakes? Go, like the, in another life Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife, As well as dream such trifles are assign'd, As toys and empires, for a god-like mind. Rewards, that either would to virtue bring No joy, or be destructive of the thing: How oft by these at sixty are undone The virtues of a saint at twenty one! whom can riches give repute or trust, Content or pleasure, but the good and just? Judges and senates have been bought for gold, Esteem and love were never to be sold. Oh fool! to think hates the worthy mind, The lover and the love of human-kind, Whose life is healthful, and whose conscience clear, Because he wants a thousand pounds a year.