The man of parts, Poet, or prose declaimer, on his couch Lolling, like one indifferent, fabricates A heaven of gold, where he, and such as he, Their heads encompassed with crowns, their heels With fine wings garlanded, shall tread the stars Beneath their feet, heaven's pavement, far removed From damned spirits, and the torturing cries Of men, his breth'ren, fashion'd of the earth, As he was, nourish'd with the self-same bread, Belike his kindred or companions once-- Through everlasting ages now divorced, In chains and savage torments to repent Short years of folly on earth.

Their groans unheard In heav'n, the saint nor pity feels, nor care, For those thus sentenced--pity might disturb The delicate sense and most divine repose Of spirits angelical.

Blessed be God, The measure of his judgments is not fix'd By man's erroneous standard.

He discerns No such inordinate difference and vast Betwixt the sinner and the saint, to doom Such disproportion'd fates.

Compared with him, No man on earth is holy call'd: they best Stand in his sight approved, who at his feet Their little crowns of virtue cast, and yield To him of his own works the praise, his due.
A TRAGEDY.
* * * * * CHARACTERS.
SIR WALTER WOODVIL.
JOHN, } SIMON, }_his sons_.
LOVELL, } GRAY, }_Pretended friends of John_.
SANDFORD.