36 MEMOIRS OF

Forsook by hopes, ill fortune ' s last relief,

Assigned for life to unremitting grief ;

For let Heaven ' s wrath enlarge these weary days,

If hope e ' er dawn the smallest of its rays,

Time o ' er the happy takes so swift a flight,

And treads so soft, so easy, and so light,

That we the wretched, creeping far behind,

Can scarce th ' impression of his footsteps find.

To thee I owe that fatal bent of mind,

Still to unhappy restless thoughts inclined ;

To thee, what oft I vainly strive to hide,

That scorn of fools, by fools mistook for pride ;

From thee whatever virtue takes its rise,

Grows a misfortune, or becomes a vice ;

Such were thy rules to be poetically great :

' Stoop not to interest, flattery, or deceit ;

Nor with hired thoughts be thy devotion paid ;

Learn to disdain their mercenary aid ;

Be this thy sure defence, thy brazen wall,

Know no base action, at no guilt look pale ;

And since unhappy distance thus denies

T ' expose thy soul, clad in this poor disguise ;

Since thy few ill-presented graces seem

To breed contempt where thou hast hoped esteem. '

These last lines probably allude to the coldness of

Sir William Temple, and to a disagreement which

began to take place between them. Swift sighed af

ter independence, and seems to have thought that

Temple delayed providing for him, from the selfish

view of retaining his assistance, now become neces-