'Tis Hard to Follow Vertue

I Rais'd sometimes my Thoughts and fixt them right,
Where Vertue, and where Glory did invite,
And in the Steps of Few, and Best, have trod,
Scorning to take the Vulgar, Beaten Road.

But him who aims at Glory they deride,
He's one 'gainst most, and worst must stemm the Tide
Since now on sordid Wealth, this Age so blind,
As on its Chiefest Good has fixt its Mind:

For the Great Things, the World has in its Hand,
Are Gold and Silver, Jewels, and Command;
These are the Gifts, which Fortune does dispence,
And may be got by Theft, and Violence.

Yet from this Lethargy thô I arise,
And shake the Clouds of Error from my Eyes;
Reject the wrong, and Right to chuse begin,
Than change my Course, I sooner can my Skin.