An
ODE
.
By
the
Same
.
I.
TOO
anxious
for
the
publick
weal
,
Awhile
suspend
the
toilsome
strife
!
O
think
if
Britain
claim
thy
zeal
,
Thy
friends
and
Britain
claim
thy
life
!
II
.
Thy
gen'rous
,
free
,
and
active
soul
,
Inspir'd
by
glory's
sacred
flame
,
Springs
ardent
to
the
distant
goal
,
And
strains
the
weaker
mortal
frame
.
III
.
Happy
whom
reason
deigns
to
guide
,
Secure
within
the
golden
mean
,
Who
shuns
the
Stoic's
senseless
pride
,
Nor
wallows
with
the
herd
obscene
.
IV
.
He
nor
with
brow
severely
bent
,
Chides
pleasure's
smiling
train
away
;
Nor
careless
of
life's
great
intent
,
With
folly
wastes
each
heedless
day
.
V.
But
from
the
mountain's
lofty
height
,
Now
nature's
mighty
frame
surveys
;
And
now
descending
with
delight
,
Along
the
humble
valley
strays
.
VI
.
So
have
I
seen
thee
gain
applause
,
Tho'
faction
rag'd
,
from
Britain's
peers
;
Then
glorious
in
thy
country's
cause
,
Go
whisper
love
in
Chloe's
ears
.