Continuing the discussion from Escapism. Is this you?
and from Gaming with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Knight at the Crossroads (1878) by Viktor M. Vasnetsov (1848–1926)
IMITATIONS OF HORACE
By Alexander Pope (1688–1744)
The Sixth Epistle of the First Book of Horace.
To Mr. Murray. [1]
“Not to admire, is all the art I know,
To make men happy, and to keep them so.”
(Plain truth, dear Murray, needs no flowers of speech,
So take it in the very words of Creech.) [2]
This vault of air, this congregated ball,
Self-centred sun, and stars that rise and fall,
There are, my friend! whose philosophic eyes
Look through, and trust the ruler with his skies,
To him commit the hour, the day, the year,
And view this dreadful All without a fear.
Admire we then what earth’s low entrails hold,
Arabian shores, or Indian seas infold;
All the mad trade of fools and slaves for gold?
Or popularity? or stars and strings?
The mob’s applauses, or the gifts of kings?
Say with what eyes we ought at courts to gaze,
And pay the great our homage of amaze?
. . .
Go then, and if you can, admire the state
Of beaming diamonds, and reflected plate;
Procure a Taste to double the surprise,
And gaze on Parian charms with learned eyes:
Be struck with bright brocade, or Tyrian dye,
Our birth-day nobles’ splendid livery.
If not so pleased, at council-board rejoice,
To see their judgments hang upon thy voice;
From morn to night, at senate, rolls, and hall,
Plead much, read more, dine late, or not at all.
But wherefore all this labour, all this strife?
For fame, for riches, for a noble wife?
Shall one whom nature, learning, birth, conspired
To form, not to admire, but be admired,
Sigh, while his Chloe, blind to wit and worth,
Weds the rich dulness of some son of earth?
Yet time ennobles, or degrades each line;
It brighten’d Craggs’s, and may darken thine: [3]
And what is fame? the meanest have their day,
The greatest can but blaze, and pass away.
Graced as thou art, with all the power of words,
So known, so honour’d, at the house of lords:
Conspicuous scene! another yet is nigh,
(More silent far) where kings and poets lie;
Where Murray (long enough his country’s pride)
Shall be no more than Tully, or than Hyde! [4] [5]
Rack’d with sciatics, martyr’d with the stone,
Will any mortal let himself alone?
See Ward by batter’d beaus invited over, [6]
And desperate misery lays hold on Dover.
The case is easier in the mind’s disease;
There all men may be cured, whene’er they please.
Would ye be blest? despise low joys, low gains;
Disdain whatever Cornbury disdains; [7]
Be virtuous, and be happy for your pains.
. . .
Endnotes:
[1] William Murray, 1st earl of Mansfield (1705–1793), chief justice of the King’s Bench of Great Britain from 1756 to 1788, who made important contributions to commercial law.
[2] Thomas Creech (1659–1700), from whose translation of Horace the two first lines are taken.
[3] James Craggs the Elder (1657–1721) and the Younger (1686–1721).
[4] Marcus Tullius Cicero, English byname Tully (106 – 43 BCE).
[5] Edward Hyde, 3rd Earl of Clarendon (1661–1723).
[6] Ned Ward (1667–1731).
[7] Henry Hyde, Viscount Cornbury (1710–1753).