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Down from his orb a vivid influence streams,
And quickening earth imbibes falubrious beams;
Each balmy plant, encrease of virtue knows,

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And art, inspir’d, with all her patron, glows.
The charmer's opening eye, kind hope, reveals,
Kind hope, her confort's breast enlivening feels.
Each grace revives, each Muse resumes the lyre,
Each beauty brightens with re-lumin'd fire.

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.

AN
Ε Ρ Ι S T L E

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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,
As interests vary, or as whims preside ;
If leagues of luxury borrow friendship's light,
Or leagues subversive of all social right:

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fay,

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O fay, my Hill, in what propitious fphere,
Gain we the friend, pure, knowing, and sincere ?
'Tis where the worthy and the wise retire ;
There wealth may learn its use, may love inspire ;
There may young worth, the nobleft end obtain,
In want may friends, in friends may knowledge gain ;
In knowledge bliss; for wisdom virtue finds, 15
And brightens mortal to immortal minds.
Kind then my wrongs, if love, like yours, succeed !
For you, like virtue, are a friend indeed.

Oft when you saw my youth wild error know,
Reproof, Inft- hinted, taught the bluh to glow.
Young and unform’d, you first my genius rais'd,
Just smild when faulty, and when moderate prais d.
Me shun'd, me ruin'd, such a mother's rage !
You fung, till pity wept o'er every page.
You callid my lays and wrongs to early fame;
Yet, yet, th' obudrate mother felt no shame.
Pierc'd as I was! your counsel soften'd care,
To ease turn d anguish, and to hope despair.
The man who never wound affictive feels,
He never felt the balmy worth that heals.
Welcome the wound, when bleft with such relief!
For deep is felt the friend, when felt in grief.
From

you

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

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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!

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Is wealth his sphere? If riches, like a tide,
From either India pour their golden pride ;
Rich in good works, him others wants employ ;
He gives the widow's heart to fing for joy.
To orphans, prisoners, fhall his bounty flow;
The weeping family of want and woe.

Is knowledge his? Benevolently great,
In leisure active, and in care sedate ;
What aid, his little wealth perchance denies,
In each hard instance his advice supplies.

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With modest truth he sets the wandering right,
And gives religion pure, primæval light;
In love diffusive, as in light refin'd,
The liberal emblem of his Maker's mind.

Is power his orb? He then, like power divine, 65 On all, though with a varied ray, will hine.

Ere

55

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Ere power was his, the man, he once caress’d,
Meets the same faithful smile, and mutual breast :
But asks his friend fome dignity of state;
His friend, unequal to th’incumbent weight? 70
Asks it a stranger, one whom parts inspire
With all a people's welfare would require ?
His choice admits no pause; his gift will prove
All private, well absorb’d in public love.
He shields his country, wlien for aid the calls; 75
Or, should the fall, with her he greatly falls :
But, as proud Rome, with guilty conquest crown'd,
Spread Navery, death and defolation round,
Should e’er his country, for dominion's prize,
Against the sons of men a' faction rise,

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

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fest;

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 ?

so

AN

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MR. JOHN DYER,
AUTHOR OF GRONGAR - HILL,

In Answer to his from the Country t.

NOW

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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,

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