Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/156



OW blest is he, who for his country dies, Since death pursues the coward as he flies? The youth in vain would fly from Fate's attack, With trembling knees and Terrour at his back; Though Fear should lend him pinions like the wind, Yet swifter Fate will seize him from behind. Virtue repuls'd, yet knows not to repine; But shall with unattainted honour shine; Nor stoops to take the staff, nor lays it down, Just as the rabble please to smile or frown. Virtue, to crown her favourites, loves to try Some new unbeaten passage to the sky; Where Jove a seat among the gods will give To those who die, for meriting to live. Next faithful Silence hath a sure reward; Within our breast be every secret barr'd! He, who betrays his friend, shall never be Under one roof, or in one ship, with me. For who with traitors would his safety trust, Lest with the wicked, Heaven involve the just? And, though the villain 'scape a while, he feels Slow Vengeance, like a bloodhound, at his heels. PHYLLIS;