CONTENT:
A VISION.
If ſolid happineſs we prize,
Within our breaſt this jewel lies;
And they are fools who roam.
The world has nothing to beſtow,
From our ſelves our joys muſt flow,
And that dear hut our home.
MAN is deceiv'd by outward ſhow—
'Tis a plain home-ſpun truth, I know;
The fraud prevails at ev'ry age,
So ſays the ſchool boy and the ſage;
Yet ſtill we hug the dear deceit,
And ſtill exclaim againſt the cheat.
But whence this inconſiſtent part?
Say, moraliſts, who know the heart:
If you'll this labyrinth purſue,
I'll go before and find the clue.
I dreamt ('twas on a birth-day night)
A ſumptuous palace roſe to fight:
The builder had, thro' ev'ry part,
Obſerv'd the chaſteſt rules of art;
Raphael and Titian had diſplay'd
All the full force of light and ſhade;
Around the liv'ry'd ſervants wait
An aged porter kept the gate.
