IN those cold Regions which no Summers chear,
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When brooding darkness covers half the year,
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To hollow Caves the shivering Natives go;
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Bears range abroad, and hunt in tracks of Snow:
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But when the tedious Twilight wears away,
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And Stars grow paler at th approach of Day,
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The longing Crowds to frozen Mountains run,
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Happy who first can see the glimmering Sun!
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The surly Salvage Off-spring disappear;
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And curse the bright Successour of the Year.
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Yet, though rough Bears in Covert seek defence,
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White Foxes stay, with seeming Innocence:
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That crafty kind with day-light can dispense.
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Still we are throngd so full with Reynards race,
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That Loyal Subjects scarce can find a place:
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Thus modest Truth is cast behind the Crowd:
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Truth speaks too Low; Hypocrisie too Loud.
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Let em be first, to flatter in success;
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Duty can stay; but Guilt has need to press.
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Once, when true Zeal the Sons of God did call,
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To make their solemn show at Heavens White-hall,
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The fawning Devil appeard among the rest,
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And made as good a Courtier as the best.
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The Friends of Job, who raild at him before,
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Came Cap in hand when he had three times more.
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Yet, late Repentance may, perhaps, be true;
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Kings can forgive if Rebels can but sue:
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A Tyrants Powr in rigour is exprest:
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The Father yearns in the true Princes Breast.
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We grant an Oregrown Whig no grace can mend;
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But most are Babes, that know not they offend.
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The Crowd, to restless motion still enclind,
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Are Clouds, that rack according to the Wind.
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Drivn by their Chiefs they storms of Hail-stones pour:
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Then mourn, and soften to a silent showre.
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O welcome to this much offending Land
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The Prince that brings forgiveness in his hand!
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Thus Angels on glad Messages appear:
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Their first Salute commands us not to fear:
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Thus Heavn, that coud constrain us to obey,
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(With revrence if we might presume to say,)
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Seems to relax the rights of Sovreign sway:
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Permits to Man the choice of Good and Ill;
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And makes us Happy by our own Free-will.
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