ALL human Race, from @3China@1 to @3Peru.@1 Pleasure, howe'er disguis'd by Art, pursue; In various Habits this fair Idol dress, Yet still adore her, still her Power confess; She leads pale Hermits to the mossy Cell, And to the Box the Fop-encircled Bellè; The Shape of Business, nay of Virtue takes, Presides alike o'er Aldermen and Rakes; Admirers boasts in every various Rank, Sends some to Bagnios, others to the Bank; Now dwells in lofty Domes and trophy'd Halls, Now near dark Woods and pensive Water-falls; One, as she prompts loves Hounds and foamy Steeds, And lonely One, by midnight Taper reads: Who build or plan, or dress with Finery smit, Or rhyme and starve, self-sacrific'd to Wit; Who heap or scatter Gold, the Grave, the Gay, Bend to this Monarch's universal Sway. 'Twas hence rough @3Charles@1 rush'd forth to ruthless War, Hence rov'd to foreign Climes the Patriot-Czar; Nor found more Bliss to civilize Mankind, Than @3Cynthia@1 in her new-bought @3Chintz@1 can find. What home-felt Joys in @3Curio@1's Bosom rise, Glow in his Cheeks, and sparkle in his Eyes? Is his Wife dead? Or have his Tenants found Large Heaps of bury'd Treasure in his Ground? Alas! you guess in vain; from @3India@1 brought, The Sage a curious Cockle-shell has bought. 'Tis said, the peevish @3Lesbia@1 lately smil'd: What had her Sullenness of Soul beguil'd? Some thought Success at Hazard charm'd her Mind, Or that her favourite Footman had been kind; Or that her Dog or Parrot had been prais'd—— A new-invented Wash these Raptures rais'd. To different Objects different Souls incline, One clips his Hedges; one seeks Whist and Wine; @3Rurelia@1 feeds her Hens, and daily churns; Her Sister such unpolish'd Creatures scorns: Her Mind is fill'd with Coaches, Cards, and Plate, Romance, Routes, Operas, Vapours, Chocolate. When bold @3Columbus@1 took his vent'rous Way, On the rough Billows of an unknown Sea, First found the curling Smoke from Hills arise, And Rocks return the Sailors joyful Cries; Felt not the Chief such Raptures thrill his Soul, As @3Flavia,@1 when she wins a doubtful @3Vole.@1 You, @3Decius,@1 too, from common Frailties free, A favourite Pleasure feel midst your Philosophy: For You, beyond the vulgar Joys of Sense, Enjoy unlimited Benevolence! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE, PARAPHRASED: THE CUP by ANACREON NO COMING TO GOD WITHOUT CHRIST by ROBERT HERRICK THE EXEQUY [ON HIS WIFE] by HENRY KING (1592-1669) THE WIND AND THE MOON by GEORGE MACDONALD TO COLIN CLOUT by ANTHONY MUNDAY FAREWELL TO THE FARM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |