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Some are so placid and serene ..!! (As Irish bogs are always green)...
They sleep secure from waking; And are indeed a bog, that bears Your unparticipated cares
Unmoved and without quaking.. .,
Courtier and patriot cannot mix ,
Without an effervescence,
A friendly coalescence.
Religion should extinguish strife,
But friends that chance to differ
No combatants are stiffer.
To prove at last my main intent
No cutting and contriving~
With still less hope of thriving.
Sometimes the fault is all our own, ?? Some blemish in due time made known.
By trespass or omission; joy. .
Sometimes occasion brings to light on eft Our friend's defect, long hid from sight,
And even from suspicion. "
Then judge yourself, and prove your man As circumspectly as you can,
And, having made election, Beware no negligence of yours, Such as a friend but ill endures, - Enfeeble his affection.
That secrets are a sacred trust,
That constancy befits them,
And all the world admits them.
But 'tis not timber, lead, and stone,.'
To finish a fine building
The carving and the gilding.
The man that hails you Tom or Jack,
How he esteems your merit,
To pardon or to bear it. Fir?
As similarity of mind, is ' ope pol
First fixes our attention; . . is
Must save it from declension.
Some act upon this prudent plan,
Safe policy, but hateful
Unpleasant and ungrateful.
The man I trust, if shy to me,
No subterfuge or pleading
A spy on my proceeding.
These samples for alas ! at last
Of evils yet unmention'da
However well intention'd.
Pursue the search, and you will find
To be at least expedient, com
And, after summing all the rest,
A principal ingredient.
The noblest Friendship ever shown
Though some have turn'd and turn'd it ;
Have not, it seems, discern'd it.
O Friendship! if my soul forego-
To mortify and grieve me,
Or may my friend deceive me! "
ON A MISCHIEVOUS BULL,
WHICH THE OWNER OF HIM SOLD AT THE AUTHOR's
Go-thou art all unfit to share
The pleasures of this place With such as its old tenants are,
Creatures of gentler race.
The squirrel here his hoard provides,
Aware of wintry storms,
Of rugged oaks for worms..
The sheep here'smooths the knotted thorn · With frictions of her fleece ; And here I wander eve and morn,
Like her, a friend to peace.
Ah! I could pity thee exiled
From this secure retreat-
The happiest of the great.
But thou canst taste no calm delight;
Thy pleasure is to show Thy magnanimity in fight,
Thy prowess—therefore, go
I care not whether east or north,
So I no more may find thee;
And claps the gate behind thee.