University of Virginia Library


161

XX. To Mr. HOLE.

Hole, in whose youthful mind the seeds were sown
Of poesy, which duly taking root,
Have, (though in times base and unworthy) grown,
Flourish'd and borne no indecorous fruit.
These elegiac lays thy eyes shall scan,
Nor with fastidious glance. The tender breast
And all the soft propensities of man
Are thine. Tho most the heroic numbers charm,
By thee, my friend, is every muse carest;
Thy fancy their delightful visions warm;
Thine are the rural haunts, and solitude
Which fosters still enthusiastic thought,
Retirement which admits not folly rude,
And scenes by love and virtue ever sought.