The
QUESTION
.
Occasion'd
by
a
serious
Admonition
.
IS
Mirth
a
Crime
?
Instruct
me
you
that
know
;
Or
shou'd
these
Eyes
with
Tears
eternal
flow
:
No
(
let
ye
Powers
)
let
this
Bosom
find
,
Life's
one
grand
Comfort
a
contented
Mind
:
Preserve
this
Heart
,
and
may
it
find
no
room
For
pale
Despondence
or
unpleasing
Gloom
:
Too
well
the
Mischief
and
the
Pangs
we
know
Of
doubtful
Musing
and
prophetick
Woe
.
But
now
these
Evils
for
a
Moment
rest
,
And
brighter
Visions
please
the
quiet
Breast
,
Where
sprightly
Health
its
blessed
Cordial
pours
,
And
chearful
Thought
deceives
the
gliding
Hours
:
Then
let
me
smile
,
and
trifle
while
I
may
,
Yet
not
from
Virtue
nor
from
Reason
stray
:
From
hated
Slander
I
wou'd
keep
my
Tongue
;
My
Heart
from
Envy
,
and
from
Guilt
my
Song
:
Nature's
large
Volume
with
Attention
read
,
Its
God
acknowledge
,
and
believe
my
Creed
:
Through
Weakness
,
not
Impiety
,
offend
;
But
love
my
Parent
,
and
esteem
my
Friend
.
If
(
like
the
most
)
my
undistinguish'd
Days
Deserve
not
much
of
Censure
or
of
Praise
:
If
my
still
Life
,
like
subterraneous
Streams
,
Glides
unobserv'd
,
nor
tainted
by
Extremes
,
Nor
dreadful
Crime
has
stain'd
its
early
Page
,
To
hoard
up
Terrors
for
reflecting
Age
;
Let
me
enjoy
the
sweet
Suspence
of
Woe
,
When
Heav'n
strikes
me
,
I
shall
own
the
Blow
:
Till
then
let
me
indulge
one
simple
Hour
,
Like
the
pleas'd
Infant
o'er
a
painted
Flow'r
:
Idly
'tis
true
:
But
guiltlesly
the
Time
Is
spent
in
trifling
with
a
harmless
Rhyme
.
Heroick
Virtue
asks
a
noble
Mind
,
A
Judgment
strong
,
and
Passions
well
refin'd
:
But
if
that
Virtue's
measur'd
by
the
Will
,
'Tis
surely
something
to
abstain
from
Ill
.