But no what here we call our life is such,
So little to be lov'd, and thou so much,
That I should ill requite thee to constrain
Thy unbound spirit into bonds again.
Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast
(The storms all weather'd and the ocean cross'd)
Shoots into port at some well-haven'd isle,
Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile,
There sits quiescent on the floods, that show
Her beauteous form reflected clear below,
While airs impregnated with incense play
Around her, fanning light her streamers gay;
So thou, with sails how swift! hast reach'd the shore,
• Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,'*
And thy lov'd consort on the dang❜rous tide
Of life long since has anchor'd by thy side.
But me, scarce hoping to attain that rest,
Always from port withheld, always distress'd-
Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-toss'd,
Sails ripp'd, seams op'ning wide, and compass lost,
And day by day some current's thwarting force
Sets me more distant from a prosp❜rous course.
Yet O the thought, that thou art safe, and he!
That thought is joy, arrive what may to me.
My boast is not, that I deduce my birth
From loins enthron'd, and rulers of the earth;
But higher far my proud pretensions rise
The son of parents pass'd into the skies.
And now, farewell-Time unrevok'd has run
His wonted course, yet what I wish'd is done.
By contemplation's help, not sought in vain,
I seem t' have liv'd my childhood o'er again;
To have renew'd the joys that once were mine,
Without the sin of violating thine;
And, while the wings of Fancy still are free,
And I can view this mimic show of thee,
Time has but half succeeded in his theft-
Thyself remov'd, thy pow'r to sooth me left.
WHAT virtue can we name, or grace,
But men unqualified and base
Will boast it their possession ?
Profusion apes the noble part
Of liberality of heart,
And dulness of discretion.
But as the gem of richest cost
Is ever counterfeited most,
So always imitation
Employs the utmost skill she can
To counterfeit the faithful man,
The friend of long duration.
Some will pronounce me too severe ;
But long experience speaks me clear;
Therefore that censure scorning,
I will proceed to mark the shelves
On which so many dash themselves,
And give the simple warning.
Youth, unadmonish'd by a guide,
Will trust to any fair outside,-
An error soon corrected;
For who but learns with riper years,
That man, when smoothest he appears,
Is most to be suspected?
But here again a danger lies,
Lest, thus deluded by our eyes,
And taking trash for treasure,
We should when undeceiv'd conclude Friendship imaginary good,
A mere Utopian pleasure.
An acquisition rather rare
Is yet no subject of despair;
Nor should it seem distressful,
If either on forbidden ground,
Or where it was not to be found,
We sought it unsuccessful.
No friendship will abide the test,
That stands on sordid interest,
And mean self-love erected;
Nor such as may a while subsist,
'Twixt sensualist and sensualist,
For vicious ends connected.
Who hopes a friend should have a heart,
Himself well furnish'd for the part,
And ready on occasion
To show the virtue that he seeks ;
For 'tis a union that bespeaks
A just reciprocation.
A fretful temper will divide
The closest knot that may be tied,
By ceaseless sharp corrosion;
A temper passionate and fierce
May suddenly your joys disperse
At one immense explosion.
In vain the talkative unite
With hope of permanent delight-
The secret just committed,
They drop through mere desire to prate,
Forgetting its important weight,
And by themselves outwitted.
How bright soe'er the prospect seems,
All thoughts of friendship are but dreams,
If envy chance to creep in;
An envious man, if you succeed,
May prove a dangerous foe indeed,
But not a friend worth keeping.
As envy pines at good possess'd,
So jealousy looks forth distress'd
On good, that seems approaching;
And, if success his steps attend,
Discerns a rival in a friend,
And hates him for encroaching.
Hence authors of illustrious name,
Unless belied by common fame,
Are sadly prone to quarrel,
To deem the wit a friend displays
So much of loss to their own praise,
And pluck each other's laurel.
A man renowned for repartee
Will seldom scruple to make free
With friendship's finest feeling,
Will thrust a dagger at your breast,
And tell you 'twas a special jest,
By way of balm for healing.
Beware of tattlers, keep your ear
Close stopt against the tales they bear,
Fruits of their own invention;
The separation of chief friends
Is what their kindness most intends,-
Their sport is your dissension.
Friendship that wantonly admits
A joco-serious play of wits,
In brilliant altercation,
Is union such as indicates,
Like hand-in-hand insurance plates,
Danger of conflagration.
Some fickle creatures boast a soul
True as the needle to the pole,
Yet shifting like the weather;
The needle's constancy forego
For any novelty, and show
Its variations rather.
Insensibility makes some
Unseasonably deaf and dumb,
When most you need their pity;
'Tis waiting till the tears shall fall
From Gog and Magog in Guildhall,—
Those playthings of the city.
The great and small but rarely meet
On terms of amity complete :
The attempt would scarce be madder,
Should any, from the bottom, hope
At one huge stride to reach the top
Of an erected ladder.
Courtier and patriot cannot mix
Their het'rogeneous politics
Without an effervescence,
Such as of salts with lemon juice,
But which is rarely known to induce,
Like that, a coalescence.
Religion should extinguish strife,
And make a calm of human life;
But even those who differ
Only on topics left at large,
How fiercely will they meet and charge!
No combatants are stiffer.
To prove, alas! my main intent
Needs no great cost of argument,
No cutting and contriving—
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