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The poetical works of John Nicholson

... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird
 

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My tale must pass o'er years, with all their joys,—
They spent their lives in play, like other boys.
Young Philo was to learning most inclined,
But Amphorus to music turned his mind.
Paros, a lovely youth, within his breast
Of mortal feeling surely had the best.
He never mis'ry saw, but shed a tear,
He had no friends, but loved them far too dear;

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Believed all flatterers were such as he,
So honest, man's deceit he could not see.
The evening sun of summer seldom set,
But these three youths in purest friendship met,
Talked till the light was faded in the sky,
Or listened Amphorus' wild melody.
Sometimes young Philo struggling with his theme,
An evening from his comrades would redeem;
His mind expanded as his knowledge grew,
And learning's every step more pleasant grew.
He saw the hidden stores of Grecian lore—
Each draught he took but made him thirst for more.
Amphorus said, “For nought on earth I'll live
“But those sweet pleasures harmony can give;
“Whate'er my kindred leave me shall be spent
“On music, and the noble instrument
“Which brings the skylark's note, or the deep tone
“Which shakes foundations of the firmest stone.
“The viol's varied tones I yet will know,
“The harp's, from whence soft melody can flow;
“Each varied part my bosom shall inspire,
“Of lively concerts, or the solemn choir;
“And marches for the army I'll compose,
“Such as shall sound when Britain meets her foes.
“The music of the ancient school I'll learn,
“And where the solemn chords of dirges mourn;
“Mozart, Von Weber, in each varied flight
“I'll follow, till I catch their notes at sight.”