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Added by a Friend, upon reading the foregoing.

There thou, O Friend, shall join th' Angelick Throng,
(The only Rivals of thy heav'nly Song)
Our Friendship there shall in Perfection shine,
And there, as here, thy Flames shall kindle mine.
There Jesus still shall animate thy Lays,
And thy sweet Tongue still celebrate his Praise.
His Praise, which here so oft thy Muse has sung,
While on thy Lips thy Friends transported hung;
Still ask'd the lofty Musick of thy Lyre,
And from thy Bosom catch'd the deathless Fire;
For, from thy Hand, they own the borrow'd Bays,
And, like my Muse, confess thy gen'rous Rays.
In those bless'd Realms thy heav'n-born Soul shall stand;
And sing superiour in the radiant Band;

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And while thy Hands the Palm cælestial claim,
Eternity shall consecrate thy Fame.
While this great Thought employs my infant Muse,
And she with flutt'ring Wings the Task pursues,
On you, dear Sir, she casts her anxious Sight,
Indulge, propitious, and assist her Flight;
To you the grateful Offering she would bring,
You claim her Song who form'd her Voice to sing.
Taught by your Rules, by your Example fir'd;
She heard, she learnt, and Instant was inspir'd:
Still by your Influence she exerts her Pow'rs,
And ev'ry varying Note she strikes is yours.
O cou'd I think in such a lofty Vein,
And in just Numbers emulate your Strain,
Had I your Muse which ev'ry Hearer warms,
For ever raises and for ever charms,
Transports your Friends, who urge its heav'nly Airs,
And drink the Harmony with ravish'd Ears,
Then, all melodious should my Accents flow,
Worthy Eternity—and worthy You.