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From thy paternal mansion—if thou vaunt
Thine independent soul, thy unbrib'd sense
Of ancient virtue, and the heroic blood
That in thy veins devolves the untainted stream,
Tho' arm'd with no preparatory skill
In legal science; ah beware the laugh
“Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn!”
Trust not to plain integrity alone,
To plain uncultur'd talents. Many a sun
Shall o'er thy unremitted toils revolve,
Thy silent observation; ere applause
Shall hail the beauties of thy fluent speech.
| Poems | |