Fortune, that with malicious joyDoes man her slave oppress,Proud of her office to destroy,Is seldom pleasd to bless.
Either be wholly slaves or wholly free.
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd: When Nature prompted, and no Law deni'd Promiscuous use of concubine and bride; Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart, His vigorous warmth did variously impart To wives and slaves: and, wide as his command, Scatter'd his Maker's image through the land.
Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
Fortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.
If thou dost still retain the same ill habits, the same follies, too, still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.
To tame the proud, the fetter'd slave to free, These are imperial arts.
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