To
the
Honorable
CHARLES
MONTAGUE
,
Esq
I.
Howe'er
'tis
well
,
that
while
Mankind
Thro'
Fate's
perverse
Mæander
errs
,
He
can
imagin'd
Pleasures
find
,
To
combat
against
real
Cares
.
II
.
Fancies
and
Notions
He
pursues
,
Which
ne'er
had
Being
but
in
Thought
:
Each
,
like
the
Græcian
Artist
,
woo's
The
Image
He
himself
has
wrought
.
III
.
Against
Experience
He
believes
:
He
argues
against
Demonstration
,
Pleas'd
,
when
his
Reason
He
deceives
;
And
sets
his
Judgment
by
his
Passion
.
IV
.
The
hoary
Fool
,
who
many
Days
Has
struggl'd
with
continu'd
Sorrow
,
Renews
his
Hope
,
and
blindly
lays
The
desp'rate
Bett
upon
To-morrow
.
V.
To-morrow
comes
:
'tis
Noon
:
'tis
Night
:
This
Day
like
all
the
former
flies
:
Yet
on
He
runs
to
seek
Delight
To-morrow
,
'till
To-night
He
dies
.
VI
.
Our
Hopes
,
like
tow'ring
Falcons
,
aim
At
Objects
in
an
airy
height
:
The
little
Pleasure
of
the
Game
Is
from
afar
to
view
the
Flight
.
VII
.
Our
anxious
Pains
We
,
all
the
Day
,
In
search
of
what
We
like
,
employ
:
Scorning
at
Night
the
worthless
Prey
,
We
find
the
Labour
gave
the
Joy
.
VIII
.
At
Distance
thro'
an
artful
Glass
To
the
Mind's
Eye
Things
well
appear
:
They
lose
their
Forms
,
and
make
a
Mass
Confus'd
and
black
,
if
brought
too
near
.
IX
.
If
We
see
right
,
We
see
our
Woes
:
Then
what
avails
it
to
have
Eyes
?
From
Ignorance
our
Comfort
flows
:
The
only
Wretched
are
the
Wise
.
X.
We
wearied
should
lie
down
in
Death
:
This
Cheat
of
Life
would
take
no
more
;
If
You
thought
Fame
but
empty
Breath
;
I
,
Phyllis
but
a
perjur'd
Whore
.