A Miscellany of Poems consisting of Original Poems, Translations, Pastorals in the Cumberland Dialect, Familiar Epistles, Fables, Songs, and Epigrams, by the late Reverend Josiah Relph ... With a Preface and a Glossary |
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An Epistle to Mr.---on his return from
G---w C---e;
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 | A Miscellany of Poems |  |
An Epistle to Mr.---on his return from G---w C---e;
in imitation of Horace, Ode 7. Book II.
O far my best and dearest friend
Brought with me oft to thy wits end
Beneath our late commander Y---s,
And art thou safe? how kind the Fates!
With thee the tedious summer day
I've shortned many a time with play;
And many a time the winter night
Have quicken'd in its tardy flight.
Together in pursuit of knowledge,
We trudged as far as G---w C---e;
Together, tired with logick frays,
We threw down arms and marched our ways.
Me with officious hand conveyed
The Muse to S---ms peacefull shade;
Thee, hapless friend, thy cruel star
Hurry'd again to scenes of war:
But safe at last; thy weary brain
Enliven with a merry strain;
Smooth thy sad brows into a smile,
And with a glass thy cares beguile,
See, how it laughs—the liquor—see!
O'erjoyed at thy return like me:
Spare not what was designed thee—come—
A thousand times thou'rt welcome home.
Sobriety must bid adieu;
There's no avoiding madness now:
Ye Gods indulge me in a grain;
I've got my friend safe home again.
Brought with me oft to thy wits end
Beneath our late commander Y---s,
And art thou safe? how kind the Fates!
With thee the tedious summer day
I've shortned many a time with play;
And many a time the winter night
Have quicken'd in its tardy flight.
Together in pursuit of knowledge,
We trudged as far as G---w C---e;
Together, tired with logick frays,
We threw down arms and marched our ways.
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The Muse to S---ms peacefull shade;
Thee, hapless friend, thy cruel star
Hurry'd again to scenes of war:
But safe at last; thy weary brain
Enliven with a merry strain;
Smooth thy sad brows into a smile,
And with a glass thy cares beguile,
See, how it laughs—the liquor—see!
O'erjoyed at thy return like me:
Spare not what was designed thee—come—
A thousand times thou'rt welcome home.
Sobriety must bid adieu;
There's no avoiding madness now:
Ye Gods indulge me in a grain;
I've got my friend safe home again.
| A Miscellany of Poems | |