Epistle X. To Spurinna and Coccia.
by
the Same. [Mr. Henley]
[_]
On Verses written upon the Death of their Son.
THE last Time I visited at your House, I did not tell you that I had penn'd a few Lines upon your Son.
First, because I did not write them to speak of them, but to gratify my Affection and Sorrow:
Secondly, because when you, Spurinna, heard me rehearse
them, as you assur'd me your self, I believe that you understood what I recited.
Besides, I was apprehensive of giving you Confusion, in a Festival Season,
if I brought you down to the Memory of so great a Disaster: And, at present too,
I make some Hesitation, whether I should only send you what I rehears'd at your Demand,
or add what I thought to reserve for a distinct Piece. For it is not a full Satisfaction to my Value,
to celebrate a Memory that shall ever be most dear and sacred to me in one single Performance,
since his Fame will be more amply consulted, if it be more spread and dispens'd.
But when I entertain'd a Scruple, whether I should give you a View of all my present Composition,
or defer some to a farther Opportunity, I judg'd it more friendly and ingenuous to yield up all to your Hands,
especially since you assure me they shall be confin'd to your selves,
till I think it proper to publish them. As for what remains, I would desire you,
with equal Frankness, if you think of any proper Change,
Addition, or Omission, to impart it. It is a Point of Difficulty to me,
to carry my Attention thus far beneath a weight of Sorrow. Hard indeed;
but yet, as you would admonish a Carver, or a Painter, that was taking a Likeness of your Son,
what he ought to express, and what to reform; so be pleas'd to model and direct me,
who attempt to draw, not a frail and perishing, but, as you flatter
me, an immortal Figure of him; one that will be so much the more lasting,
as it will be more true, good and perfect.
