C 0 M 'LT S.' 6 But fuch as are good Men can give good things, And that which is not good, is not delicious To a well-govern'd and wife appetite. 705 Corn. 0 fooliihnefs of men ! that lend their ears To thole budge dodors of the Stoic fur, And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, Praiting the lean and fallow Abflinence. Whereforedid Nature pour her bounties forth, 710 With fuch a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odors, fruits, and flocks, Thronging the fear with (pawn innumerable, But all to pleafe, and fate the curious tafte ? And let to work millons of fpinning worms, 'TS That in their green (hops weave the fmooth-hair'd filk To deck her fons, and that no corner might Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins She hutcht th' all-worfhipt ore, and precious gems To flore her children with : if all the world 7zo Should in a pet of temp'rance feed on pulfe, Drink the clear ftream, and nothing wear but frieze, Th' all-giver would be' unthank'd, would be unprais'd, Not half his riches known, and yet defpis'd, And we fhould ferve him as a grudging mailer, 725 As a penurious niggard of his wealth, And live like Nature's baftards, not her fons, Who would be quite furcharg'd with her own weight And ftrangled with her wafle fertility, Th' earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air darkt witk plumes, 716 The herds would over multitude their lords, The lea o'erfraught would fwell, and th' unfought diamonds Would fo itnbiaze the forehead of the deep, And fo beftud with ftars, that they below Would grow inued to light, and come at laft 73-5 To
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