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Thrice, Henry, has the rolling year
Warm'd in my breast the wish sincere,
To tell thee—and in Verse to tell,—
What Verse, methinks, can best reveal;
For oft the Muse can truths impart,
And fix them deepest in the Heart—
To tell thee, how Affection's eye
Has watch'd thee, as the hour drew nigh
When all that Nature gave of rare
Shot up like May-blooms sweet and fair;
To tell thee, how, as they began
To open and unfold the Man,

I breath'd to Heav'n fond Friendship's pray'r,
That Heav'n would make those blooms its care;
And, as the growing fragrance spread,
Celestial sun and dew be shed,
Till the blest fruits shall blight defy,
Not idly ripen, fade and die.

But in Life's paths, so wild and wide,
Thus oft has Friendship softly sigh'd:
The trial of his youth to make,
Which shall my cherish'd Henry take?
Shall that fair brow, those azure eyes,
That promise of the Hero size,
That spirit lofty yet serene,
That ardent and yet gentle mien,
Earn the proud trophies of the Field,
Or to the milder triumphs yield?
Shall Music trance his melting soul,
The sterner passions to controul?
For sure in that young breast there dwells
The Spirit of melodious spells.
Or shall the Pencil's magic art,
Or the sweet Lyre, subdue his heart?
For sure in that young breast there lies
What heav'n-born Poesy supplies.
Or, to a different track consign'd,
Must other labours claim his mind?

Oh! to which path soe'er he bend,
May partial Providence befriend,
Still watch and help him on his way,
His guard by night, his guide by day!

For, wheresoe'er that youth shall go,
A Spirit of the skies will glow.

But lo! th'eventful day appears,
And stamps the fate of future years.
Dear youth, thy pledge this night is given,
And witness'd in the face of Heaven!
Nor Painting's tints, nor Music's sound,
Nor martial notes, though peal'd around
Responsive to a Nation's Voice,—
Nor Arts nor Arms are made thy choice;
A Power more awful and severe,
Who sees the Muse, with brow austere,
In whose unsunn'd yet golden lands
No air-built fairy castle stands;
Nor flowers of Fancy dare to blow,
Nor fabled streams presume to flow;
Law, on his adamantine throne,
Has mark'd and seal'd thee for his own.

And must those charming talents fade
In legal Iteration's shade?
And all those vivid colours fly,
Whose brightness sham'd the Tyrian dye,
In one dull round of words and deeds,
Where Nature fails, and Art succeeds;
And Wit and Fancy, Sense and Taste,
Like noxious weeds all run to waste;
And harsh debate and puzzling phrase
Entangling Truth a thousand ways,
While Wisdom's self is heard to groan
In an eternal monotone;

And pert presuming Impotence
Assumes the tone of Eloquence; . . . .
Oh! must my Henry's happy powers
Yield all their fragrance, all their flowers,
And to Law's thorny maze, resign'd,
Devote his yet unsullied mind?

Oh, no! Avaunt, aspersions vile,
And vulgar errors which beguile!
The cant of Prejudice confounds
With proverbs false and empty sounds!
Tho' oft-times foul and dark chicane
Forms an inextricable chain,
And snares by many a covert deed
Of dire delay, or cruel speed;
Law, my lov'd Henry, boasts a claim
Superior in the ranks of Fame,
And, when sustain'd with zeal sincere,
Is Virtue's buckler, shield, and spear:
Clad in such armour mayst thou go,
Fair Virtue's friend, and Vice's foe!

Resolv'd by honest ends to rise,
The Law, my friend, the means supplies;
Unnumber'd objects round it wait,
To make its votaries good as great.
With awful power and generous pride,
Henry shall take fair Honour's side;
To him the griev'd, the wrong'd, shall fly
For justice and humanity;
To him th'oppress'd shall suppliant kneel,
And sordid hearts be taught to feel;

His generous bosom shall disdain
The low-born arts of length'ning pain;
His eloquence shall aid the Laws,
And plead with fervour Pity's cause;
Shall at the sick man's pillow stand,
And guide his weak reluctant hand,
Nor let the dying parent leave
A plunder'd family to grieve.
A champion for the orphan's right,
The neighbour's due, the widow's mite;
A friend to every virtuous woe,
And only to the base a foe.

Thus, in Law's briery path, a flower
May often spring of mighty power.
The cottage rose, which Pride would rend
From some poor maid, those Laws defend;
The acres which a father gave
To some poor swain, the Laws may save;
That little field, the virgin's dower,
Which Fraud rapacious would devour,
The salutary Laws shall guard,
For Virtue's and for Love's reward.

Thus then shall Henry's tender heart
Its native bounty still impart,
Be armed with more congenial sway,
And take a broader scope to play:
The fairest talents of his youth
Shall gain a nobler grace from Truth.
To guard the real cot from harm,
Exceeds the Pencil's mimic charm,

And Fancy's loveliest landscapes yield
To the glad peasant's rescu'd field ;
And Wisdom's smile and Mercy's tear
Shall my lov'd Henry's choice endear:
For, whatsoe'er the art we name,
Virtue and Vice are still the same;
And whatsoe'er the ribald jest,
The upright man shall still be blest.

This has been recently illustrated in a very singular and interesting manner. A poor widow, who received relief from Birmingham workhouse, came to the house of Mr. U., a professional gentleman, whom she had never seen before, and told him she had dreamt that he could recover an estate for her poor children, which a person unjustly detained from them; and that, although this person knew he possessed the estate unlawfully, he said he would never give it up, and that it was impossible for her to get it, as she could not afford to pay for law, and no lawyer would undertake her cause without money. Mr. U., no less concerned for the interests of the poor woman and her family than for the honour of his profession, after he had inquired into the truth of her statement, entered with becoming spirit into the business, dispossessed the man who detained the estate from her, and made him refund the arrears, and pay the costs of the suit. The poor widow and her children are now in complete enjoyment of the property thus rescued from the hands of a villain, which amounts to upwards of forty pounds a year; and thus her dream is happily accomplished.