The flinty soil indeed their feet annoys; Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast TO THE REV. W. CAWTHORNE UNWIN. UNWIN, I should but ill repay The kindness of a friend, As ever friendship penn❜d, Thy name omitted in a page, That would reclaim a vicious age. An union form'd, as mine with thee, May be as fervent in degree, And faithful in its sort, And may as rich in comfort prove, The bud inserted in the rind, Not rich, I render what I may, I seize thy name in haste, The poet's lyre, to fix his fame, AN EPISTLE TO JOSEPH HILL, Esq. DEAR JOSEPH-five and twenty years ago— Alas, how time escapes!-'tis even soWith frequent intercourse, and always sweet, And always friendly, we were wont to cheat A tedious hour-and now we never meet! As some grave gentleman in Terence says ('Twas therefore much the same in ancient days), Good lack, we know not what to-morrow bringsStrange fluctuation of all human things!" True. Changes will befall, and friends may part, But distance only cannot change the heart; And, were I call'd to prove th' assertion true, One proof should serve a reference to you. Whence comes it then, that in the wane of life, Though nothing have occurr'd to kindle strife, We find the friends we fancied we had won, Though num'rous once, reduc'd to few or none? Can gold grow worthless, that has stood the touch? No; gold they seem'd, but they were never such. Horatio's servant once, with bow and cringe, Swinging the parlour-door upon its hinge, Dreading a negative, and overaw'd Lest he should trespass, begg'd to go abroad. "Go, fellow! whither!"-turning short about"Nay. Stay at home-you're always going out.” “ "Tis but a step, sir, just at the street's end.""For what?" Anplease you, sir,to see a friend.”"A friend!"-Horatio cried, and seem'd to start"Yea, marry shalt thou, and with all my heart.— And fetch my cloak; for though the night be raw, I'll see him too-the first I ever saw.' I knew the man, and knew his nature mild, And was his plaything often when a child; But somewhat at that moment pinch'd him close, Else he was seldom bitter or morose. Perhaps his confidence just then betray'd, His grief might prompt him with the speech he made. O, happy Britain! we have not to fear Such hard and arbitrary measure here; Else, could a law, like that which I relate, Once have the sanction of our triple state, Some few, that I have known in days of old, Would run most dreadful risk of catching cold; While you, my friend, whatever wind should blow, Might traverse England safely to and fro, An honest man, close button'd to the chin, Broad cloth without, and a warm heart within. TO THE REVEREND MR. NEWTON. An Invitation into the Country. THE Swallows in their torpid state The keenest frost that binds the stream, Are neither felt nor fear'd by them, Secure of their repose. But man, all feeling and awake, The gloomy scene surveys; Old Winter, halting o'er the mead, Then April, with her sister May, And if a tear, that speaks regret CATHARINA, ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON, SHE Came-she is gone—we have met— And seems to have risen in vain. And much she was charm'd with a tone Less sweet to Maria and me, Who so lately had witness'd her own. My numbers that day she had sung, Could infuse into numbers of mine. The longer I heard, I esteem'd The work of my fancy the more, Though the pleasures of London exceed |