THE VANITY OF WEALTH: AN ODE. Samuel Johnson Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1136 K093079.003 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. III. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 249-250. 4v. ; 8⁰.

This e-text is part of the Works section of the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

XML created for the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

The text has been typographically modernized, but without any silent modernization of spelling, capitalization, or punctuation. The source of the text is given and all editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. Based on the electronic text originally produced by the TCP project, this text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.

Library of Congress Name Authority File (LCNAF) text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center; text-align: right; text-align: left; display: inline font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;
THE VANITY OF WEALTH : AN ODE . BY THE SAME . NO more thus brooding o'er yon heap , With Avarice painful vigils keep , Still unenjoy'd the present store , Still endless sighs are breath'd for more . O quit the shadow , catch the prize , Which not all India's treasure buys ! To purchase Heaven has gold the power ? Can gold remove the mortal hour ? In life can Love be bought with gold ? Are Friendship's pleasures to be sold ? No — all that's worth a wish , a thought , Fair Virtue gives , unbrib'd , unbought . Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind , Let nobler views engage thy mind . With Science tread the wonderous way , Or learn the Muse's moral lay ; In social hours indulge thy soul , Where Mirth and Temperance mix the bowl ; To virtuous Love resign thy breast , And be by blessing Beauty blest . Thus taste the feast by Nature spread , Ere Youth , and all its joys are fled ; Come , taste with me the balm of life , Secure from pomp , and wealth , and strife . I boast , whate'er for man was meant , In health , and STELLA , and content ; And scorn ! oh ! let that scorn be thine ! Mere things of clay , that dig the mine .