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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Speeches of Sloth and Virtue</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">[Upon the Plan of Xenophen's Judgment of Hercules]</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">SLOTH </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Hither, dear Boy, direct thy wandring Eyes, <br>'Tis here the lovely Vale of Pleasure lies. <br>Debate no more -- to me thy self resign; <br>Her mossy Caves, her Groves, and all are mine. <br>For me the Goddess opes her various Pow'r, <br>Springs in a Tree, or blossoms in a Flow'r: <br>To please my Ear she breaths celestial Strains: <br>To please my Eye, with Lillies strews the Plains: <br>To form my Couch in mossy Beds she grows: <br>To gratify my Smell she blooms a Rose. <br>Oft' in some Nymph the Deity I find, <br>Where in one Form the various Sweets are join'd. <br>Yield but to me, -- a Choir of Nymphs shall rise, <br>And with the blooming Sight regale thy Eyes: <br>Their beauteous Cheeks a fairer Rose shall wear, <br>A brighter Lilly in their Necks appear: <br>Thou on their Breasts thy wearied Head recline, <br>Nor at the Swan's less pleasing Nest repine: <br>Whilst Philomel in each soft Voice complains, <br>And gently lulls thee with her dying Strains: <br>Whilst spicy Gums round each fair Bosom glow; <br>And in each Accent myrrhy Odours flow. <br>For thee with softest Art the Dome shall rise, <br>And spiring Turrets glitter thro' the Skies. <br>For thee the Robe shall glow with purple Rays; <br>The Side-board sparkle, and gilt Chariot blaze. <br>In brilliant Mines, be other Hands employ'd, <br>So the gay Product be by thine enjoy'd. <br>For thee the Poplar shall her Amber drain: <br>For thee in clouded Beauty spring the Cane. <br>To please thy Taste shall Gallia prune the Vine: <br>To swell thy Treasures India sink the Mine. <br>For thee each Nations nicer Stores shall grow, <br>And ev'ry Wind some lovely Tribute blow. <br>Learning shall ne'er molest thy tranquil Reign, <br>Nor Science puzzle thy inactive Brain: <br>Sometimes perhaps thy Fancy take her Wing <br>To grace a Fan, or celebrate a Ring: <br>Fix various Dyes to suit each varying Mien: <br>Prescribe where Patches shou'd in Crouds be seen: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Or sigh soft Strains along the vocal Grove, <br>And tell the Charms, the sweet Effects of Love! <br>Or if more specious Ease thy Care shou'd claim, <br>And thy Breast glow with faint Desire of Fame, <br>Some trivial Science shall thy Thoughts amuse; <br>And Learning's Name a solemn Sound diffuse. <br>To Thee all Nature's shelly Store I'll bring, <br>To thee the Sparklings on the Insect's Wing. <br>Pleasure in infant Forms shalt thou descry; <br>View, in an Ant, or hear her in a Fly; </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When near thy Path, as oft as Spring appears, <br>The sportive Goddess buzzes round thy Ears: <br>Now in some Pebble's curious Vein is seen, <br>Or on some Leaf bestows unusual Green. <br>Then Sleep shall wrap thee in her downy Arms, <br>And round thy weary'd Head diffuse her Charms; <br>Lest growing Pride thy peaceful Schemes o'erthrow, <br>And Thought succeed, -- my most destructive Foe. <br>The watry Nymphs shall tune the tinkling Vales, <br>And gentle Zephyrs harmonize their Gales: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">For thy repose instruct, with Rival Joy, <br>Their Streams to murmur, and their Winds to sigh. <br>Thus shalt thou spend the sweetly-flowing Day, <br>Till lost in Bliss thou breath thy Soul away: <br>How easy a Transition should'st thou find, <br>Were to thy Fate Annihilation join'd! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>VIRTUE. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fly, fly, fond Youth, the too indulgent Maid, <br>Nor err, by such fantastick Scenes betray'd. <br>Tho' in my Path the prickly Thorn be seen, <br>And the waste Turf produce a fainter Green; </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Tho' no gay Rose, or purple Product shine, <br>The rugged Surface still conceals the Mine; <br>And each unsightly Object can supply <br>More lasting Pleasure, more substantial Joy. <br>But shou'd those airy glittr'ing Toys allure, <br>Yet whence cou'd Sloth the mighty Boon procure? <br>Or whence receive, or how those Gifts bestow, <br>Which I alone possess -- her greatest Foe? <br>I from old Ocean rob the treasur'd Store, <br>And hidden Gems thro' ev'ry Realm explore: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Twas I the rugged Brilliant first reveal'd, <br>By tenfold Strata in the Earth conceal'd: <br>'Tis I the shapeless Surface still refine, <br>And teach the rugged Brilliant how to shine. <br>Where blooms the Rose, where spires the shapely Tree, <br>Where smiles the Grape, without fair Industry? <br>But grant we Sloth the Scene herself has drawn, <br>The mossy Grotto, and the flow'ry Lawn: <br>Let Frankincense with ev'ry Wind exhale, <br>And Philomela breath in ev'ry Gale: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Let Brilliants sparkle, (dear Machines of Pride!) <br>And from the Poplar flow the Amber Tide: <br>Let gay Pomona, quitting all around, <br>For choicest Fruits select the hallow'd Ground; <br>To tread the favour'd Soil shou'd Virtue cease, <br>Nor mossy Grotts, nor flow'ry Lawns cou'd please: <br>Nor ought Pomona's luscious Gifts avail: <br>The Sound harmonious; or the spicy Gale. <br>See'st thou those Rocks in dreadful Pomp arise, <br>And barren Cliffs that sweep the vaulted Skies? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Those Fields whence Phoebus all their Moisture drains, <br>And, too profusely kind, disrobes the Plains? <br>When I vouchsafe to tread the lonely Soil, <br>Those Rocks seem lovely, and those Desarts smile; <br>Oft' on those pathless Wilds as I appear, <br>(With Converse sweet his lonely Steps to chear) <br>Those Cliffs the Exile has with Pleasure view'd, <br>And call'd that Desart, ``Blissful Solitude! <br>Known by its airy Height and tow'ring Spires, <br>Behind that Scene Fame's lofty Dome retires. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Steep the Ascent by which to Fame we rise, <br>Yet equal to the Labour is the Prize: <br>From thence you gain an earthly Crown; <br>From thence -- you reach the Skies. <br>Far, far below the downy Throne is seen <br>That lulls to Rest Ignavia's softer Queen: </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Thence to Fame's Turrets oft' She lifts her Eyes, <br>Desirous still, still impotent to rise. <br>Oft', when resolv'd to gain those shining Tow'rs, <br>The pensive Queen the dire Ascent explores; </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Comes onward, wafted by the gummy Trees, <br>Some Sylvan Musick, or some scented Breeze; <br>She turns her Head; her own gay Realm she spies, <br>And all the airy Resolution dies. <br>Thus still in vain these gilded Visions please <br>The Wretch of Glory, whilst the Slave of Ease; <br>Doom'd ever in ignoble State to pine, <br>Boast her own Scenes, and languish after mine.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Shenstone">William Shenstone</a></strong></div>