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Down from his orb a vivid influence streams,
40 As Health's auspicious powers gay life display, Death, fullen at the fight, Stalks flow away.
Τ Η Ε
F R I EN D.
O MY lov'd Hill, O thou by heaven design d
To charm, to mend, and to adorn mankind ! To thee my hopes, fears, joys, and forrows tend, Thou brother, father, nearer yet! - thou friend!
If worldly friendships oft cement, divide,
O fay, my Hill, in what propitious fphere,
Oft when you saw my youth wild error know,
Thall never, but with life, remove Aspiring genius, condescending love. When some, with cold, superior looks, redress, 35 Relief seems insult, and confirms distress; You, when you view the man with wrongs besieg'd, While warm you act th'obliger, seem th' oblig'd.
All-winning mild to each of lowly state; To equals free, unservile to the great ; Greatnefs you honour, when by worth acquir'd; Worth is by worth in every rank admir'd. Greatness you scorn, when titles insult speak; Proud to vain pride, to honour'd meekness merk. That worthless bliss, which others court, you fly; 45 That worthy woe, they shun, attracts your eye.
But shall the Muse resound alone your praile? No-let the public friend exalt her lays ! O trace that friend with me!--he's yours !-he's
mine! The world's beneficent behold him shine!
Is knowledge his? Benevolently great,
Is power his orb? He then, like power divine, 65 On all, though with a varied ray, will hine.
Ere power was his, the man, he once caress’d,
80 Glory in hers, is in his eye disgrace; The friend of truth; the friend of human race.
Thus to no one, no sect, no clime confin'd, His boundless love embraces all mankind; And all their virtues in his life are known; And all their joys and sorrows are his own.
These are the lights, where itands that friend con
This, this the fpirit, which informs thy breast. Through fortune's cloud thy genuine worth can fine; What would'st thou not, were wealth and greatness thine ?
MR. JOHN DYER,
In Answer to his from the Country t.
OW various birds in meling concert sing,
And hail the beauty of the opening 'pring : Now to thy dreams the nightingale complains, Till the lark wakes thee wiih her cherful trains; Wakes, in thy verse and friendship ever kind, 5 Melodious comfort to my jarring mind.
Oh could my soul through epths of knowledge see, Could I read nature and mankind like thee, I fiould o'ercome, or bear the thocks of fate, And e'en draw envy to the humblelt ftare. Thou canst raise honour from each ill event, From Mhocks gain vigour, and from want content,
Think not light poetry my life's chief care! The Muse's mansion is, at belt, but air ; But, if more solid works my meaning forms, 15 Th’unfinish'd structures fall by fortune's storms.
Oft have I said we fallely those accuse, Whose god-like souls life's middle state refuse. Self-love, I cry'd, there seeks ignoble rest; Care sleeps not calm, when millions wake unbleft; 20 M
Mean + See Dyer's Poems,