Come thou, my Friend! my Genius! come along;
Oh, master of the poet and the song!
And while the Muse now stoops, or now ascends
To man's low passions or their glorious ends,
Teach me, like thee, in various Nature wise,
To fall with dignity, with temper rise.....
Oh! while along the stream of time thy name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame,
Say, shall my little bark attendant sail,
Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale?
Shall then this Verse to future age pretend
Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend?
That, urg'd by thee, I turn'd the tuneful art
From sounds to things, from fancy to the heart;
Fer Wit's false mirror held up Nature's light,
Shew'd erring Pride, whatever is is right.
That virtue only makes our bliss below,
And all our knowledge is ourselves to know.
Printed for, and under the Direction of,
C. CAWTHORN, British Library, STRAND.