Page:Curious history on several occasions.pdf/18

 his delight is to hear and ſpeak of himſelf all the day long.

He ſwalloweth, with greedineſs, his own praiſe, and the flatterer in return eateth him up.

n this ſtrange world, my friend, we often hear,

How few can boaſt of happineſs ſincere;

That precious gem, in diſtant regions lies,

And ſcarce with rays reflected ſtrike our eyes.

Eluded, baffl'd, harraſſ'd in our courſe,

We urge our destiny from bad to worſe;

And thro' life's tempeſt toſs'd from wave to wave,

Explore a quarry till we find a grave.

The kind of aſylum of the fool and wiſe,

Where each fond hope in mix'd abortion lies.

When ſhall this reſtleſs, ſentient frame of mine,

In thy maternal breaſt its grief reſign?

When ſhall profeſſing friends inſidious foes.

And learned pride, conſign me to repoſe?