John Armstrong

“ The body overcharg’d with unctuous phlegm
Much toil demands: The lean elastic less.
While winter chills the blood, and binds the veins,
No labours are too hard: By those you ’scape 360 [Pg 83]
The slow diseases of the torpid year;
Endless to name; to one of which alone,
To that which tears the nerves, the toil of slaves
Is pleasure: Oh! from such inhuman pains
May all be free who merit not the wheel! 365
But from the burning Lion when the sun
Pours down his sultry wrath; now while the blood
Too much already maddens in the veins,
And all the finer fluids thro’ the skin
Explore their flight ”

“ Fierce and insidious, violent and slow;
With all that urge or lure us on to Fate;
What refuge shall we seek? what arms prepare?
Where Reason proves too weak, or void of wiles, 475
To cope with subtle or impetuous Powers,
I would invoke new Passions to your aid:
With Indignation would extinguish Fear,
With Fear or generous Pity vanquish Rage,
And Love with Pride; and force to force oppose. 480 [Pg 132]
There is a Charm: a Power that sways the breast;
Bids every Passion revel or be still;
Inspires with Rage, or all your Cares dissolves;
Can sooth Distraction, and almost Despair. ”

“ And quick vibrations thro’ the bowels drive
The restless blood, which in unactive days
Would loiter else thro’ unelastic tubes.
Deem it not trifling while I recommend
What posture suits: To stand and sit by turns, 80
As nature prompts, is best. But o’er your leaves
To lean for ever, cramps the vital parts,
And robs the fine machinery of its play.
’Tis the great art of life to manage well
The restless mind. For ever on pursuit 85
Of knowledge bent it starves the grosser powers. ”

“ Thro’ all the heights of fondness and romance:
And you’re undone, the fatal shaft has sped,
If once you doubt whether you love or no.
The body wastes away; th’ infected mind,
Dissolv’d in female tenderness, forgets 355
Each manly virtue, and grows dead to fame. ”

“ With fault’ring speech, and eyes that wildly stare; 420
Fierce as the Tyger, madder than the seas,
Desperate, and arm’d with more than human strength.
How soon the calm, humane, and polish’d man
Forgets compunction, and starts up a fiend!
Who pines in Love, or wastes with silent Cares, 425
Envy, or Ignominy, or tender Grief,
Slowly descends and ling’ring to the shades.
But he whom Anger stings, drops, if he dies,
At once, and rushes apoplectic down;
Or a fierce fever hurries him to hell. 430
For, as the Body thro’ unnumber’d strings
Reverberates each vibration of the Soul ”

“ Th’ evaporation thro’ the softned skin
May bear proportion to the swelling blood.
So shall they ’scape the fever’s rapid flames;
So feel untainted the hot breath of hell. 320
With us, the man of no complaint demands
The warm ablution, just enough to clear
The sluices of the skin, enough to keep
The body sacred from indecent soil. ”

“ O’erwhelm’d with phlegm lies in a dropsy drown’d, 55
Or sinks in lethargy before his time.
With useful studies you, and arts that please
Employ your mind, amuse but not fatigue. [Pg 107]
Peace to each drowsy metaphysic sage!
And ever may the German folio’s rest! 60
Yet some there are, even of elastic parts,
Whom strong and obstinate ambition leads
Thro’ all the rugged roads of barren lore,
And gives to relish what their generous taste
Would else refuse. But may nor thirst of fame 65
Nor love of knowledge urge you to fatigue
With constant drudgery the liberal soul. ”

“ Creep on, and thro’ the sickning functions steal.
So, when the chilling East invades the spring,
The delicate Narcissus pines away
In hectic languor; and a slow disease
Taints all the family of flowers, condemn’d 440
To cruel heav’ns. But why, already prone
To fade, should beauty cherish its own bane?
O shame! O pity! nipt with pale Quadrille,
And midnight cares, the bloom of Albion dies! ”

“ A gay, humane, and amiable grace,
And brightens all the ornaments of man. [Pg 125]
But fruitless, hopeless, disappointed, rack’d 365
With jealousy, fatigued with hope and fear,
Too serious, or too languishingly fond,
Unnerves the body and unmans the soul.
And some have died for Love; and some run mad;
And some with desperate hand themselves have slain. 370
Some to extinguish, others to prevent,
A mad devotion to one dangerous Fair,
Court all they meet; in hopes to dissipate
The cares of Love amongst a hundred Brides. ”

“ Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul,
Is the best gift of heaven: a happiness 285
That even above the smiles and frowns of fate
Exalts great Nature’s favourites: a wealth
That ne’er encumbers, nor to baser hands
Can be transfer’d: it is the only good
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own. ”

“ Tho’ the sweet poet of the vernal groves
Melts all the night in strains of amorous woe.
The shades descend, and midnight o’er the world
Expands her sable wings. Great nature droops
Thro’ all her works. ”

“ Spoil’d of its limpid vehicle, the blood
A mass of lees remains, a drossy tide
That slow as Lethe wanders thro’ the veins, 175
Unactive in the services of life,
Unfit to lead its pitchy current thro’
The secret mazy channels of the brain. ”

“ The fault is ours; we bear those monstrous arts,
Good Heaven! we praise them: we, with loudest peals,
Applaud the fool that highest lifts his heels;
And, with insipid shew of rapture, die
Of ideot notes, impertinently long. 495 [Pg 133]
But he the Muse’s laurel justly shares,
A Poet he, and touch’d with Heaven’s own fire;
Who, with bold rage or solemn pomp of sounds,
Inflames, exalts, and ravishes the soul;
Now tender, plaintive, sweet almost to pain, 500
In Love dissolves you; now in sprightly strains
Breathes a gay rapture thro’ your thrilling breast ”

“ Dry be your house: but airy more than warm. 315
Else every breath of ruder wind will strike
Your tender body thro’ with rapid pains;
Fierce coughs will teize you, hoarseness bind your voice,
Or moist Gravedo load your aching brows. ”

“ But other cares are mine:
Form’d in the school of Pæon, I relate
What Passions hurt the body, what improve: 310
Avoid them, or invite them, as you may. [Pg 122]
Know then, whatever chearful and serene
Supports the mind, supports the body too.
Hence the most vital movement mortals feel
Is Hope; the balm and life-blood of the soul. 315
It pleases, and it lasts. Indulgent heaven
Sent down the kind delusion, thro’ the paths
Of rugged life; to lead us patient on;
And make our happiest state no tedious thing.
Our greatest good, and what we least can spare. 320
Is Hope ”

“ There is, they say, (and I believe there is)
A spark within us of th’ immortal fire,
That animates and moulds the grosser frame;
And when the body sinks, escapes to heaven,
Its native seat; and mixes with the Gods. ”

“ Already, see, the deep-mouth’d beagles catch 60
The tainted mazes; and, on eager sport
Intent, with emulous impatience try
Each doubtful track. Or, if a nobler prey
Delight you more, go chase the desperate deer;
And thro’ its deepest solitudes awake 65
The vocal forest with the jovial horn.
But if the breathless chase o’er hill and dale
Exceed your strength; a sport of less fatigue,
Not less delightful, the prolific stream
Affords. The chrystal rivulet, that o’er 70
A stony channel rolls its rapid maze,
Swarms with the silver fry. ”

“ And from the deeps call’d forth the wanton swarms.
Form’d on the Samian school, or those of Ind,
There are who think these pastimes scarce humane.
Yet in my mind (and not relentless I)
His life is pure that wears no fouler stains. 100
But if thro’ genuine tenderness of heart,
Or secret want of relish for the game,
You shun the glories of the chace, nor care
To haunt the peopled stream; the garden yields
A soft amusement, an humane delight. 105
To raise th’ insipid nature of the ground ”

“ Thro’ all the yielding pores the melted blood
Gush’d out in smoaky sweats; but nought assuag’d
The torrid heat within, nor aught reliev’d
The stomach’s anguish. With incessant toil,
Desperate of ease, impatient of their pain, 555
They toss’d from side to side. In vain the stream
Ran full and clear, they burnt and thirsted still.
The restless arteries with rapid blood
Beat strong and frequent. Thick and pantingly
The breath was fetch’d, and with huge lab’rings heav’d. ”

“ By nature fix’d, whence life must downwards tend. 530
For still the beating tide consolidates
The stubborn vessels, more reluctant still,
To the weak throbbings of th’ enfeebled heart.
This languishing, these strengthning by degrees
To hard unyielding unelastic bone, 535
Thro’ tedious channels the congealing flood [Pg 57]
Crawls lazily, and hardly wanders on;
It loiters still: And now it stirs no more.
This is the period few attain; the death
Of nature: Thus (so heav’n ordain’d it) life 540
Destroys itself ”

“ Weak withering age no rigid law forbids,
With frugal nectar, smooth and slow with balm, 495
The sapless habit daily to bedew,
And give the hesitating wheels of life
Gliblier to play. ”

“ To wish you well, he wishes you in heaven. ”

“ To tend the sick, and in their turns to die.
In heaps they fell: And oft one bed, they say,
The sickening, dying, and the dead contain’d.
Ye guardian Gods, on whom the Fates depend
Of tottering Albion! Ye eternal fires, 620
That lead thro’ heav’n the wandering year! Ye powers,
That o’er th’ incircling elements preside!
May nothing worse than what this age has seen [Pg 99]
Arrive! Enough abroad, enough at home
Has Albion bled. ”

“ What good what evil from ourselves proceeds:
And how the subtle principle within 5
Inspires with health, or mines with strange decay
The passive body. Ye poetic Shades,
That know the secrets of the world unseen, [Pg 104]
Assist my song! For, in a doubtful theme
Engag’d, I wander thro’ mysterious ways. ”

“ New worlds are still emerging from the deep; 565
The old descending, in their turns to rise.
[Pg 60]
BOOK III.
EXERCISE.
Thro’ various toils th’ adventurous muse has past;
But half the toil, and more than half, remains.
Rude is her theme, and hardly fit for song;
Plain, and of little ornament; and I
But little practis’d in th’ Aonian arts. 5
Yet not in vain such labours have we tried,
If ought these lays the fickle health confirm. [Pg 62]
To you, ye delicate, I write; for you
I tame my youth to philosophic cares,
And grow still paler by the midnight lamps. ”

“ Or, more advent’rous, rush into the field
Where war grows hot; and, raging thro’ the sky, 160
The lofty trumpet swells the maddening soul: [Pg 113]
And in the hardy camp and toilsome march
Forget all softer and less manly cares. ”

“ Or whether, thro’ the tedious winter gloom,
You tempt the midnight or the morning damps. [Pg 87]
The body, fresh and vigorous from repose, 430
Defies the early fogs: but, by the toils
Of wakeful day, exhausted and unstrung,
Weakly resists the night’s unwholsome breath. ”

“ There are, while human miseries abound, 175
A thousand ways to waste superfluous wealth,
Without one fool or flatterer at your board,
Without one hour of sickness or disgust. ”

“ In proportion as these small vessels become solid, the larger must of course grow less extensile, more rigid, and make a stronger resistance to the action of the heart, and force of the blood. From this gradual condensation of the smaller vessels, and consequent rigidity of the larger ones, the progress of the human body from infancy to old age is accounted for. ”

“ By subtle fluids pour’d thro’ subtle tubes
The natural, vital, functions are perform’d. 30
By these the stubborn aliments are tam’d;
The toiling heart distributes life and strength;
These the still-crumbling frame rebuild; and these
Are lost in thinking, and dissolve in air. ”

“ Toil, and be strong. By toil the flaccid nerves
Grow firm, and gain a more compacted tone; 40 [Pg 64]
The greener juices are by toil subdu’d,
Mellow’d, and subtilis’d; the vapid old
Expell’d, and all the rancor of the blood. ”

“ And oft the sorceress, in her sated wrath,
Resigns them to the furies of her train; 145
The bloated Hydrops, and the yellow fiend
Ting’d with her own accumulated gall. [Pg 10]
In quest of sites, avoid the mournful plain
Where osiers thrive, and trees that love the lake;
Where many lazy muddy rivers flow: 150
Nor for the wealth that all the Indies roll
Fix near the marshy margin of the main.
For from the humid soil, and watry reign,
Eternal vapours rise; the spungy air
For ever weeps; or, turgid with the weight 155
Of waters, pours a sounding deluge down. ”

“ Besides, this restless world
Is full of chances, which by habit’s power 475
To learn to bear is easier than to shun. ”

“ And tottering empires rush by their own weight. ”

“ The Thracian steeds with human carnage wild. 145
Prompted by instinct’s never-erring power,
Each creature knows its proper aliment; [Pg 34]
But man, th’ inhabitant of every clime,
With all the commoners of nature feeds.
Directed, bounded, by this pow’r within, 150
Their cravings are well-aim’d: Voluptous man
Is by superior faculties misled;
Misled from pleasure even in quest of joy.
Sated with nature’s boons, what thousands seek,
With dishes tortur’d from their native taste, 155
And mad variety, to spur beyond
Its wiser will the jaded appetite!
Is this for pleasure? Learn a juster taste ”

“ And Virtue, thro’ this labyrinth we tread.
Virtue and Sense I mean not to disjoin;
Virtue and Sense are one; and, trust me, he 265
Who has not virtue is not truly wise.
Virtue (for meer good-nature is a fool)
Is sense and spirit, with humanity:
’Tis sometimes angry, and its frown confounds ”

“ Spoil’d of its balm and sprightly zest, the blood [Pg 127]
Grows vapid phlegm; along the tender nerves 400
(To each slight impulse tremblingly awake)
A subtle Fiend that mimics all the plagues
Rapid and restless springs from part to part.
The blooming honours of your youth are fallen;
Your vigour pines; your vital powers decay; 405
Diseases haunt you; and untimely Age
Creeps on; unsocial, impotent, and lewd. ”