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Who can but feel the Joy that Friendship gives,
When Paulus' honest Hand his Hand receives?
Blest Man! to whom he deigns that Pledge impart,
Unfailing Servant to a valiant Heart!

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Whose Warmth whenever Justice bids is shown,
In a Friend's Cause, still warmer than his own.
But oh! forgive the Muse, if droops her Wing,
If e'en to thee she can but faintly sing,
While the dear Pleasures Friendship e'er has shown,
Are now but from a past Enjoyment known.
Th'imperfect Joy remembrance gives my Breast,
Is that in thee and—I once was blest,
Blest in thy gen'rous Friendship what I feel,
Thy Soul, from whence it springs, forbids me tell.
And thy Experience knows what Fate denies,
While—for Health to distant Scarbrough flies;
For often has he fix'd thy list'ning Ear,
With sprightly Wit, or Argument severe,
In his Wit Dignity, his Learning Ease,
T'instruct his Business, his Delight to please.
Come then, nor farther a Friend's Woes prolong,
Whose Grief sincere you find from this sad Song.