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Poetics

Or, a series of poems, and disquisitions on poetry. By George Dyer

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ODE XII. WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF JOHN HOWARD, AT HIS VILLA AT CARDINGTON, IN BEDFORDSHIRE.
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ODE XII. WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF JOHN HOWARD, AT HIS VILLA AT CARDINGTON, IN BEDFORDSHIRE.

Hard is his lot, however honoured, he
Who braves in slender bark the ruffian wave,
Eager the shipwreck'd mariner to save,
Unknown the latent dangers of the sea!
There lurk the rocks, which, ah! he shall not flee:
And ocean boisterous raves, and wild winds roar,
Nor pitying pilot hails him from the shore:
And in the storm his bark o'erwhelm'd must be.
Ah! thus oft sinks the friend of human kind:
Prudence and Pride, expand your silken sail
O'er halcyon streams; coax every saucy wind;
And Fortune's mirthsome crew in passing hail.
Pour, too, from niggard hearts the frugal sigh,
And measure out the prayer,—for well ye can,—
And grieve, that man, poor man, so soon should die:
Thus live—your own dear friends; but not the friends of man.