A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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| TRANSLATIONS AND IMITATIONS. |
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
218
TRANSLATIONS AND IMITATIONS.
220
EPIGRAM, ON A CHILD AND HIS MOTHER, BOTH EXTREMELY HANDSOME AND BLIND OF AN EYE: FROM THE LATIN.
To your sweet mother, lovely boy!The eye you have resign;
You'll then another Cupid prove,
And she a Venus shine.
ANOTHER.
To your fair mother, lovely child!That sparkling eye resign,
You'll justly then be Cupid stil'd,
And she a Venus shine.
A PICTURE OF RELIGION,
FROM THE FRENCH OF MR. J. BERNE.
Why does my breast with sudden transports glow?
My ravish'd soul what new-felt ardors fire?
What mystic visions down the welkin flow,
Charm fancy's eye and my rapt thoughts inspire?
My ravish'd soul what new-felt ardors fire?
What mystic visions down the welkin flow,
Charm fancy's eye and my rapt thoughts inspire?
221
Behold Religion's heavenly form appears!
And lo! she grasps no thunders in her hand!
No priestly fury on her brow she wears!
Nor scatters strife and terror thro' the land!
And lo! she grasps no thunders in her hand!
No priestly fury on her brow she wears!
Nor scatters strife and terror thro' the land!
Before her steps, see! superstition flies,
And bigot fury mourns her power o'erthrown;
Chain'd at her feet oppression prostrate lies,
And persecution blasted by her frown.
And bigot fury mourns her power o'erthrown;
Chain'd at her feet oppression prostrate lies,
And persecution blasted by her frown.
Mild to command, and gentle to persuade,
Peace in her looks, and blessings in her hands,
Sweet charity attends, in smiles array'd,
And calm benevolence before her stands.
Peace in her looks, and blessings in her hands,
Sweet charity attends, in smiles array'd,
And calm benevolence before her stands.
Gay hope, soft pity from the skies descend;
With lively faith her influence to maintain;
Reason and justice at each side attend,
With every social virtue in their train.
With lively faith her influence to maintain;
Reason and justice at each side attend,
With every social virtue in their train.
Such is her form!—all gentleness and joy,
She claims her fair dominion o'er the mind;
No flames to burn, no dungeons to destroy,
No whips to torture and enslave mankind.
She claims her fair dominion o'er the mind;
No flames to burn, no dungeons to destroy,
No whips to torture and enslave mankind.
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May heaven her presence thro' the world extend,
And to her precepts every heart incline;
I ask no more, if she her succour lend,
Wealth, fame and honour gladly I resign.
And to her precepts every heart incline;
I ask no more, if she her succour lend,
Wealth, fame and honour gladly I resign.
A PARAPHRASE, ON CRASHAW'S CELEBRATED EPIGRAM, ON OUR SAVIOUR'S TURNING WATER INTO WINE,
AT THE MARRIAGE IN CANA OF GALILEE. ST. JOHN, CHAP. ii.
WRITTEN AS A SCHOOL EXERCISE, BY A LAD NOT FIFTEEN.
Once to a marriage feast, among the rest,
The Lord of Life went, an invited guest:
Three cheerful suns had set; but now a doubt
Perplex'd the governor—the wine was out.
The holy mother, likewise present there,
With prudent purpose interpos'd her care,
And to her son's celestial aid applied,
Which never fails who in his name confide;
But tho' untimely the request was made,
He, what a lesson! filial reverence paid.
The menial train, obedience strictly taught,
From the next fountain, as directed, brought
A copious freight, and, as 'twas meet there should,
Arrang'd in view the festal vases stood,
Those, with the limpid stream, the ready band
Fill to the brim by the divine command;
The attentive crowd stood in his presence hush'd,
The conscious water saw her God and blush'd;—
Hence, of the simple element procur'd,
Into their goblets at his bidding pour'd,
Straight to the governor the servants bore;
But, who can heaven's mysterious ways explore?
'Tis wine—and all with admiration mov'd,
The fresh supply beyond the first approv'd.
Thus manifest his glory was made known,
And the great honour due to parents shown.
The Lord of Life went, an invited guest:
Three cheerful suns had set; but now a doubt
Perplex'd the governor—the wine was out.
The holy mother, likewise present there,
With prudent purpose interpos'd her care,
And to her son's celestial aid applied,
Which never fails who in his name confide;
But tho' untimely the request was made,
He, what a lesson! filial reverence paid.
223
From the next fountain, as directed, brought
A copious freight, and, as 'twas meet there should,
Arrang'd in view the festal vases stood,
Those, with the limpid stream, the ready band
Fill to the brim by the divine command;
The attentive crowd stood in his presence hush'd,
The conscious water saw her God and blush'd;—
Hence, of the simple element procur'd,
Into their goblets at his bidding pour'd,
Straight to the governor the servants bore;
But, who can heaven's mysterious ways explore?
'Tis wine—and all with admiration mov'd,
The fresh supply beyond the first approv'd.
Thus manifest his glory was made known,
And the great honour due to parents shown.
MARRIAGE IN CANA.
EPIGRAMMA.
Unde rubor vestris et non sua purpura lymphis?Quæ rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas?
Numen, convivæ! præsens agnoscite numen,
Vidit et erubuit Nympha pudica Deum.
[_]
The following lines on our Saviour's turning water into wine were written by Crashaw, a Latin poet of the last century, not by Dryden, to whom they have been attributed.
224
A PARAPHRASE ON THE REV. DR. WATTS'S CELEBRATED DISTICH, ON THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES.
ADDRESSED TO THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN OF THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR SCHOOL,
BY ONE OF THEIR SCHOOL-FELLOWS.
“Let every foreign tongue alone
“Till you can spell and read your own.”
“Till you can spell and read your own.”
With equal justice, sense and truth,
So says the guide and friend of youth:
For ignorant in that, 'tis plain,
Your boast of literature is vain;
But make your own your first concern,
All others you may quickly learn;
And thus with minds prepar'd and free,
Their beauties taste, their idioms see.
So says the guide and friend of youth:
For ignorant in that, 'tis plain,
Your boast of literature is vain;
But make your own your first concern,
All others you may quickly learn;
And thus with minds prepar'd and free,
Their beauties taste, their idioms see.
Pedants may flout and keep a pother
About this language, and the other,
And swear that none can write or speak,
Who have not Latin learn'd and Greek:
‘He of all judgment is depriv'd,
‘Who knows not whence a word's deriv'd,
‘And every Briton willy nilly,
‘Must dig good English out of Lily.’
These are vague notions foster'd long,
Crude in their birth, in practice wrong;
Like many more of ancient date,
Wisely reformed or obsolete.
About this language, and the other,
And swear that none can write or speak,
Who have not Latin learn'd and Greek:
225
‘Who knows not whence a word's deriv'd,
‘And every Briton willy nilly,
‘Must dig good English out of Lily.’
These are vague notions foster'd long,
Crude in their birth, in practice wrong;
Like many more of ancient date,
Wisely reformed or obsolete.
Thousands, 'tis true, the course have run,
Which reason would have bid them shun:
'Tis common sense and good in law,
To furnish brick we should have straw;
But by the mystic code of schools
There's neither straw allow'd nor tools;
And years of pain, and learning's stock,
Begin and end in—Hic, hæc, hoc!!!
What charms are there, in sense or sound,
Of such intrinsic merit found,
That, not thro' prejudice to err,
Terms of our own we mayn't prefer?
And just as well the purport fit,
With Oxford writing,—He, she, it?
Or do they more in church or state
Improve discourse, or point debate?
Which reason would have bid them shun:
'Tis common sense and good in law,
To furnish brick we should have straw;
But by the mystic code of schools
There's neither straw allow'd nor tools;
And years of pain, and learning's stock,
Begin and end in—Hic, hæc, hoc!!!
What charms are there, in sense or sound,
Of such intrinsic merit found,
That, not thro' prejudice to err,
Terms of our own we mayn't prefer?
And just as well the purport fit,
With Oxford writing,—He, she, it?
Or do they more in church or state
Improve discourse, or point debate?
Poor boys in training, it appears,
Condemn'd to waste their tender years
On exercises, which conduce
To little or no real use,
Seem to perpetuate Britain's doom,
To groan beneath the yoke of Rome.
Rome that abandon'd us in need,
Still o'er our judgment takes the lead;
We scout her eagles with disdain;
The fasces still usurp domain;
Still, of court influence tho' bereft,
In schools the badge of slavery's left,
And interest still, or affectation,
Warps the free spirit of the nation;
Tho' richer prospects grace our view,
Than ever Greek or Roman knew.—
All must be through the classics led,
Before the horn-book well they've read;
A more oppressive task in fact
Than Ægypt's tyrant could exact,
Which genius in the cradle cramps,
And all her generous efforts damps;
But in your native language skill'd,
You on a sure foundation build;
The edifice will rise sublime,
In perfect order, place and time.
Condemn'd to waste their tender years
226
To little or no real use,
Seem to perpetuate Britain's doom,
To groan beneath the yoke of Rome.
Rome that abandon'd us in need,
Still o'er our judgment takes the lead;
We scout her eagles with disdain;
The fasces still usurp domain;
Still, of court influence tho' bereft,
In schools the badge of slavery's left,
And interest still, or affectation,
Warps the free spirit of the nation;
Tho' richer prospects grace our view,
Than ever Greek or Roman knew.—
All must be through the classics led,
Before the horn-book well they've read;
A more oppressive task in fact
Than Ægypt's tyrant could exact,
Which genius in the cradle cramps,
And all her generous efforts damps;
But in your native language skill'd,
You on a sure foundation build;
The edifice will rise sublime,
In perfect order, place and time.
There, and there only should commence
The path to knowlege, wit and sense;
For there the young ingenious mind,
The road to excellence will find,
And in the flowery walks of science,
May bid disgraceful birch defiance;
But who, a novice there, aspires,
Must work his way through thorns and briars,
And when the craggy steeps are past,
May skulk a useless drone at last;
Nay, tho' he get A. B. at College,
Be stopt of his degree in knowlege.
The path to knowlege, wit and sense;
227
The road to excellence will find,
And in the flowery walks of science,
May bid disgraceful birch defiance;
But who, a novice there, aspires,
Must work his way through thorns and briars,
And when the craggy steeps are past,
May skulk a useless drone at last;
Nay, tho' he get A. B. at College,
Be stopt of his degree in knowlege.
Then cultivate your native soil,
The harvest will repay your toil;
And be it every Parent's care,
To plant the seeds of goodness there.
The harvest will repay your toil;
And be it every Parent's care,
To plant the seeds of goodness there.
The petty ambition of pretending to superior skill, in other languages, seems pleasantly and aptly ridiculed in the following anecdote.
One of our modern modishly-bred ladies, boasting of her proficiency in the French tongue, asserted she understood and spoke it better than she did English; and, for the truth, appealed to a French lady in company. The adroit Parisian very candidly and sensibly replied, ‘I am not, my dear madam! sufficiently acquainted with the English to determine; but I should be ashamed and sorry to say, I spoke any language half so well as my own.’
228
JUVENAL'S STATE OF THE LEARNED, SATIRE VII.
ALTERED FROM DRYDEN.
Vexations numberless, thro' every state,
All learned professions, all bright talents wait.
But, Oh! what stock of patience wants the fool,
Who wastes his time and lungs in teaching school?
To hear the babbling of untoward boys,
Conning trite forms, on mischief bent and noise!
Sitting, or standing, still confin'd to roar
In one dull round the same thing o'er and o'er;
Prelecting still, enforcing and expounding;
Their unsusceptive ears still all confounding;
What part of speech, declension, number, case,
Mood, tense, voice, person, government and place?—
Themes to discuss, epistles to indite,
Accounts to shine in, and with grace to write;
The world's extensive volume, old and new,
With Scientific mastery to view;
Historic lore, and chronologic too;
Then to pronounce the various works of wit,
With sound discretion, and with action fit;
All aim at these: but at the quarter-day,
The parent grumbles, and is loath to pay.
‘Pay, Sir! for what? The boy knows nothing more,
‘The six months past, than what he knew before:’—
Taught or untaught, dunces are still the same;
Yet still the master undergoes the blame;
Without exception, though each single boy
In open school his utmost care employ;
Tho' hours on hours, day after day, he has tried
With shame to check, or stimulate with pride;
Encourag'd, threaten'd, reason'd, sooth'd, caress'd,
To rouse the latent spark within his breast,
Defeated and perplex'd, 'till his parch'd tongue
With sheer fatigue has to his palate clung.
The murder'd master cries, would parent's hear
But half the stuff that I am doom'd to bear,
For that revenge I'd quit the whole arrear—
But, if my friendly counsel might be us'd,
In purse and fame egregiously abus'd,
Such barren soil let not the learned try,
But to more grateful occupations fly:
The meanest trade, the spade and pick-ax take,
Rather the sweltering hod your option make.
More to be envied, easier and more sure,
The drudge's dole, who plies from door to door,
Than his, who, counting on his hard-earn'd gains,
Reaps such a sorry harvest for his pains.
Music and dancing lavishly are bought;
Those youth are long and sedulously taught;
But sense and learning deem'd not worth a groat
All learned professions, all bright talents wait.
But, Oh! what stock of patience wants the fool,
Who wastes his time and lungs in teaching school?
To hear the babbling of untoward boys,
Conning trite forms, on mischief bent and noise!
Sitting, or standing, still confin'd to roar
In one dull round the same thing o'er and o'er;
Prelecting still, enforcing and expounding;
Their unsusceptive ears still all confounding;
What part of speech, declension, number, case,
Mood, tense, voice, person, government and place?—
Themes to discuss, epistles to indite,
Accounts to shine in, and with grace to write;
The world's extensive volume, old and new,
With Scientific mastery to view;
Historic lore, and chronologic too;
Then to pronounce the various works of wit,
With sound discretion, and with action fit;
229
The parent grumbles, and is loath to pay.
‘Pay, Sir! for what? The boy knows nothing more,
‘The six months past, than what he knew before:’—
Taught or untaught, dunces are still the same;
Yet still the master undergoes the blame;
Without exception, though each single boy
In open school his utmost care employ;
Tho' hours on hours, day after day, he has tried
With shame to check, or stimulate with pride;
Encourag'd, threaten'd, reason'd, sooth'd, caress'd,
To rouse the latent spark within his breast,
Defeated and perplex'd, 'till his parch'd tongue
With sheer fatigue has to his palate clung.
The murder'd master cries, would parent's hear
But half the stuff that I am doom'd to bear,
For that revenge I'd quit the whole arrear—
But, if my friendly counsel might be us'd,
In purse and fame egregiously abus'd,
Such barren soil let not the learned try,
But to more grateful occupations fly:
The meanest trade, the spade and pick-ax take,
Rather the sweltering hod your option make.
More to be envied, easier and more sure,
The drudge's dole, who plies from door to door,
Than his, who, counting on his hard-earn'd gains,
Reaps such a sorry harvest for his pains.
230
Those youth are long and sedulously taught;
But sense and learning deem'd not worth a groat
Whate'er connects with luxury and show,
Largely our prodigals on that bestow.
Capacious palaces and villas, grac'd
With all the wild extravagance of taste;
Exotics nurs'd with counterfeited sun,
And whole estates to pleasure gardens run;
Coursers of blood, and matchless in the race,
Train'd to the turf, or destin'd to the chace;
Expensive services of curious plate;
Suites of domestics, carriages of state,
And troops of duns announce them wise and great.
But, tho' superb the mansion be or not,
The cook and cellar never are forgot;
And, nought to risk in serious matters, here
Talents and breeding must be made appear:
In scorn of character, of time and health,
The table groans with the parade of wealth;
Here rich and poor, of high and low degree,
Strain all alike, and scorn oeconomy.
Claudius, to fashion and his taste a dupe,
Rags half an ox in a turrene of soup;
But more, if possible, profusion shines
In wild variety of costly wines:
Yet, 'midst this wasteful riot, there accrues
A thrifty pittance for Quintilian's dues;
For, to breed up the heir to common sense,
Is evermore the parents least expence.
‘From whence then, comes Quintilian's vast estate?’
Because he was the darling son of fate;
And, out of mere caprice, luck made him great.
Urge not in precedent one single man,
As rare as a white crow or sable swan;
Some friendly stars exerted all their power,
And smiled propitious on his natal hour;
To them, not merit his success was due;
For fortune never was to merit true;
And they who draw from fortune's ample source,
Are good and wise, and all things else of course:
'Tis she that flings the die; and, as she flings,
Of kings makes pedants, and of pedants, kings.
Largely our prodigals on that bestow.
Capacious palaces and villas, grac'd
With all the wild extravagance of taste;
Exotics nurs'd with counterfeited sun,
And whole estates to pleasure gardens run;
Coursers of blood, and matchless in the race,
Train'd to the turf, or destin'd to the chace;
Expensive services of curious plate;
Suites of domestics, carriages of state,
And troops of duns announce them wise and great.
But, tho' superb the mansion be or not,
The cook and cellar never are forgot;
And, nought to risk in serious matters, here
Talents and breeding must be made appear:
In scorn of character, of time and health,
The table groans with the parade of wealth;
Here rich and poor, of high and low degree,
Strain all alike, and scorn oeconomy.
Claudius, to fashion and his taste a dupe,
Rags half an ox in a turrene of soup;
But more, if possible, profusion shines
In wild variety of costly wines:
231
A thrifty pittance for Quintilian's dues;
For, to breed up the heir to common sense,
Is evermore the parents least expence.
‘From whence then, comes Quintilian's vast estate?’
Because he was the darling son of fate;
And, out of mere caprice, luck made him great.
Urge not in precedent one single man,
As rare as a white crow or sable swan;
Some friendly stars exerted all their power,
And smiled propitious on his natal hour;
To them, not merit his success was due;
For fortune never was to merit true;
And they who draw from fortune's ample source,
Are good and wise, and all things else of course:
'Tis she that flings the die; and, as she flings,
Of kings makes pedants, and of pedants, kings.
Most masters execrate the barren chair;
Like him who hang'd himself through mere despair
And poverty; or him, whom Caius sent,
For liberty of speech, to banishment.
Even Socrates, ungrateful Athens sees
In want, and sentenced by unjust decrees.
Like him who hang'd himself through mere despair
And poverty; or him, whom Caius sent,
For liberty of speech, to banishment.
Even Socrates, ungrateful Athens sees
In want, and sentenced by unjust decrees.
In peace, ye shades of our forefathers! rest;
No heavy earth your sacred bones molest:
Eternal spring, and rising flowers adorn
The relics of each venerable urn,
Who pious reverence their preceptors paid,
As parents honour'd, and as gods obey'd.
Achilles, grown in stature, feared the rod,
And stood corrected at the Centaur's nod;
In useful learning did his years employ,
And promised all the hero in the boy.
No heavy earth your sacred bones molest:
Eternal spring, and rising flowers adorn
The relics of each venerable urn,
232
As parents honour'd, and as gods obey'd.
Achilles, grown in stature, feared the rod,
And stood corrected at the Centaur's nod;
In useful learning did his years employ,
And promised all the hero in the boy.
The scene's much alter'd in our modern schools;
For, blind the parent, every Tony rules;
And masters but mere cyphers prove and tools.
Young Sulky, by his tutor once reprov'd,
Swell'd with revenge, and swore he'd be remov'd;
And, lo! a miracle, to make it good,
A bottle of red ink is turn'd to blood;
He smears his shirt, and Abigail, his friend,
Alarms mama, and so he gains his end;
And every tattling gossip thro' the nation
Brands the fell tyrant's name, and blasts his reputation.
For, blind the parent, every Tony rules;
And masters but mere cyphers prove and tools.
Young Sulky, by his tutor once reprov'd,
Swell'd with revenge, and swore he'd be remov'd;
And, lo! a miracle, to make it good,
A bottle of red ink is turn'd to blood;
He smears his shirt, and Abigail, his friend,
Alarms mama, and so he gains his end;
And every tattling gossip thro' the nation
Brands the fell tyrant's name, and blasts his reputation.
Go ask what fruit Palemon's pains produce,
And how he's paid? Why amply—in abuse:
And, tho' approv'd his care, confess'd his toil,
They hardly claim one supercilious smile:
Some ten days over, or perchance a score,
He's pass'd unnotic'd, and is known no more.
As to his profits, tho' confin'd and bare,
Yet even of those the ushers must have share:
Besides, the rents and servants must be paid;
And thus of little still a less is made.
Yet, in the bargain, every sly device
Is tried, to screw out something of the stated price:
And, after chaffering as with porters, still,
Dear generous souls! they tax the quarter's bill:
If not contented, take your bill away;
Commence your suit, and try the law's delay;
Or, acquiescing to avoid the suit,
They bleed your purse and character to boot.
But who the dues curtail, and thus protract,
Most from the abject pedagogue exact.
‘Be sure you perfect him in grammar rules,
‘And all the best historians read in schools;
‘The authors; every poet to a hair;
‘I, as your own, commit him to your care;
‘Your daily pains, 'beseech you, to employ,
‘To form the future conduct of my boy,
‘And work him, like a waxen babe, with art,
‘To perfect symmetry in every part;
‘His principles and morals strictly guide;
‘Spare no expence, but all his wants provide:
‘He always show'd a generous, docile spirit;
‘Is tender, gentle, and you'll find has merit.
‘Be, Sir! his better parent; and beware
‘No improprieties his health impair.
‘This be your task’—and literally pursu'd,
The great reward is—Black Ingratitude.
And how he's paid? Why amply—in abuse:
And, tho' approv'd his care, confess'd his toil,
They hardly claim one supercilious smile:
Some ten days over, or perchance a score,
He's pass'd unnotic'd, and is known no more.
As to his profits, tho' confin'd and bare,
Yet even of those the ushers must have share:
Besides, the rents and servants must be paid;
And thus of little still a less is made.
233
Is tried, to screw out something of the stated price:
And, after chaffering as with porters, still,
Dear generous souls! they tax the quarter's bill:
If not contented, take your bill away;
Commence your suit, and try the law's delay;
Or, acquiescing to avoid the suit,
They bleed your purse and character to boot.
But who the dues curtail, and thus protract,
Most from the abject pedagogue exact.
‘Be sure you perfect him in grammar rules,
‘And all the best historians read in schools;
‘The authors; every poet to a hair;
‘I, as your own, commit him to your care;
‘Your daily pains, 'beseech you, to employ,
‘To form the future conduct of my boy,
‘And work him, like a waxen babe, with art,
‘To perfect symmetry in every part;
‘His principles and morals strictly guide;
‘Spare no expence, but all his wants provide:
‘He always show'd a generous, docile spirit;
‘Is tender, gentle, and you'll find has merit.
‘Be, Sir! his better parent; and beware
‘No improprieties his health impair.
‘This be your task’—and literally pursu'd,
The great reward is—Black Ingratitude.
234
THE APPLE, AN IMITATION, FROM THE GREEK OF PLATO,
AS PRESERVED BY DIOGENES LAERTIUS, IN HIS THIRD BOOK, FROM WHICH WALLER TOOK THE IDEA OF HIS BEAUTIFUL POEM, GO LOVELY ROSE!
To Delia, thee, Hesperian fruit! I send,Where autumn's hues with vernal colours blend;
A rich return my Delia can impart,
The secret treasures of a virgin heart;
But if no secret treasures thou can'st gain,
And Delia's rose blooms but to give us pain,
Tell her the withering breath of swift decay,
That wastes thy sweets, will waft her bloom away;
Bid her with yielding blushes meet desire,
Nor with untasted charms unblest expire;
Show her how soon thy glowing beauties fade,
And by thy fate instruct the lovely maid.
235
EPIGRAM.
[Cælia, a friend in speculation]
Fructu, non foliis, arborem æstima.
Cælia, a friend in speculation,
Was hurt by some abuse;
She did not want an explanation—
She wanted an excuse!!!
238
SENTIMENTAL ACQUITTANCE;
OR, AN EASY WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS: CONVENIENTLY ADOPTED BY CERTAIN PLAUSIBLE DECLAIMERS, ACCORDING TO A FAVOURITE MORAL MAXIM EXHIBITED IN PRIOR'S EPIGRAM.
I owed to John great obligation;
But John, unhappily, thought fit
To publish it to all the nation;
Sure John and I are more than quit.
But John, unhappily, thought fit
To publish it to all the nation;
Sure John and I are more than quit.
THE ANSWER.
Mat with my purse bought food and raiment;But Mat, my claim to quash,
Tenders a scrap of wit in payment;
I wish it had been cash.
ANOTHER, BY R. N. ESQ.
With gratitude no longer glow,Since friendship's laws I so forget;
Yet sure the equivalent you owe,
Renounce the friend—but pay the debt.
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |