« ПредишнаНапред »
Whom flow'rs alone I knew would little please,
To charm his ear, whofe eye is on the heart;
Whofe approbation-profper even mine.
DEAR JOSEPH-five and twenty years ago Alas, how time escapes!-'tis even foWith frequent intercourse, and always sweet, And always friendly, we were wont to cheat A tedious hour-and now we never meet! As fome grave gentleman in Terence fays, ('Twas therefore much the fame in ancient days) Good lack, we know not what to-morrow brings Strange fluctuation of all human things! True. Changes will befall, and friends may part, But diftance only cannot change the heart:
And, were I call'd to prove th' affertion true,
Whence comes it then, that in the wane of life, Though nothing have occurr'd to kindle ftrife, 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 feem'd, but they were never fuch.
Horatio's fervant once, with bow and cringe, Swinging the parlour-door upon its hinge, Dreading a negative, and overaw'd
Left he should trefpafs, begg'd to go abroad.
And fetch my cloak; for, though the night be raw, I'll fee him too-the firft I ever faw.
I knew the man, and knew his nature mild,
Perhaps, his confidence just then betray'd,
His grief might prompt him with the speech he made;
But, not to moralize too much, and strain