Sat. V. The Universal Passion .

Which choak our passage, our career controul*And wound the firmest temper of the foul.

O sacred solitude! divine retreat!

Choice of the prudent! envy of the great1By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade*

We court fair Wisdom, that celestial Maid:

The genuine offspring of her lov’d embrace*(Strangers on earth!) are innocence , and peace.There , from the ways of men lay’d safe ashore*We smile to hear the distant tempest roar;

There , blest with health, with business unperpieXt*This life we relish, and ensure the next ;

There too the Muses sport; these numbers free*Tierian Eajlbury ! I owe to thee:

There sport the Muses ; but not there alone iTheir sacred force Amelia, feels in town;