Admonish'd, scorn the caution and the friend, But he, who knew what human hearts would prove, A life of ease would make them harder still, To rescue from the ruins of mankind, Call'd for a cloud to darken all their years, O salutary streams, that murmur there! These flowing from the fount of grace above, 366 EPISTLE TO A LADY IN FRANCE. Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast Far from the flock, and in a boundless waste! No shepherd's tents within thy view appear, But the chief Shepherd even there is near; Thy tender sorrows and thy plaintive strain Flow in a foreign land, but not in vain; Thy tears all issue from a source divine, And ev'ry drop bespeaks a Saviour thineSo once in Gideon's fleece the dews were found, And drought on all the drooping herbs around. TO THE REV. W. CAWTHORNE UNWIN. I. UNWIN, I should but ill repay The kindness of a friend, Whose worth deserves as warm a lay As ever Friendship penn'd, Thy name omitted in a page, That would reclaim a vicious age. II. A union form'd, as mine with thee, And faithful in it's sort, And may as rich in comfort As that of true fraternal love. III. The bud inserted in the rind, The bud of peach or rose, prove, Adorns, though diff'ring in it's kind, With flow'r as sweet, or fruit as fair, 368 TO THE REV. W. CAWTHORNE UNWIN. IV. Not rich, I render what I may, I seize thy name in haste, Lest this should prove the last. 'Tis where it should be-in a plan, V. The poet's lyre, to fix his fame, No muses on these lines attend, END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. T. Bensley, Printer, |