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Down from his orb a vivid influence ftreams,
And quickening earth imbibes falubrious beams;
Each balmy plant, encrease of virtue knows,
And art, infpir'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.
As Health's aufpicious powers gay life difplay,
Death, fullen at the fight, ftalks flow away.

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My lov'd Hill, O thou by heaven defign'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 prefide;
If leagues of luxury borrow friendship's light,
Or leagues fubverfive of all social right;

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O fay, my Hill, in what propitious fphere,
Gain we the friend, pure, knowing, and fincere ?
'Tis where the worthy and the wife retire;
There wealth may learn its ufe, may love infpire;
There may young worth, the noblest end obtain,
In want may friends, in friends may knowledge gain;
In knowledge blifs; for wifdom virtue finds,
And brightens mortal to immortal minds.
Kind then my wrongs, if love, like yours, fucceed!
For you, like virtue, are a friend indeed.

Oft when you faw my youth wild error know,
Reproof, foft-hinted, taught the blush to glow.
Young and unform'd, you firft my genius rais'd,
Just smil'd when faulty, and when moderate prais`d.
Me fhun'd, me ruin'd, such a mother's rage!
You fung, till pity wept o'er every page.

You call'd my lays and wrongs to early fame;
Yet, yet, th' obudrate mother felt no shame.
Pierc'd as I was! your counfel soften'd care,
To ease turn'd anguish, and to hope despair.
The man who never wound afflictive feels,
He never felt the balmy worth that heals.
Welcome the wound, when bleft with fuch relief!
For deep is felt the friend, when felt in grief.

From you fhall never, but with life, remove

Afpiring genius, condefcending love.

When fome, with cold, fuperior looks, redress,
Relief feems infult, and confirms distress;
You, when you view the man with wrongs befieg'd,
While warm you act th' obliger, seem th' oblig'd.

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All

All-winning mild to each of lowly state; To equals free, unfervile to the great;

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Greatness you honour, when by worth acquir'd;
Worth is by worth in every rank admir'd.
Greatness you fcorn, when titles infult speak;
Proud to vain pride, to honour'd meeknefs meek.
That worthless blifs, which others court, you fly; 45
That worthy woe, they fhun, attracts your eye.
But fhall the Mufe refound alone your praise?
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 fhine!

Is wealth his fphere? 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, prifoners, fhall his bounty flow;

The weeping family of want and woe.

Is knowledge his? Benevolently great,

In leisure active, and in care fedate;
What aid, his little wealth perchance denies,
In each hard inftance his advice fupplies.

With modest truth he fets the wandering right,
And gives religion pure, primæval light;

In love diffufive, as in light refin'd,

The liberal emblem of his Maker's mind.

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

Ere

Ere power was his, the man, he once carefs'd,
Meets the fame faithful fmile, and mutual breaft:
But afks his friend fome dignity of state;

His friend, unequal to th’incumbent weight?
Afks it a stranger, one whom parts inspire
With all a people's welfare would require ?
His choice admits no paufe; his gift will prove
All private, well abforb'd in public love.
He fhields his country, when for aid fhe calls;
Or, should she fall, with her he greatly falls :
But, as proud Rome, with guilty conqueft crown'd,
Spread flavery, death and defolation round,

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Should e'er his country, for dominion's prize,

Against the fons of men a faction rife,
Glory in hers, is in his eye disgrace;

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The friend of truth; the friend of human race.

Thus to no one, no fect, no clime confin'd,

His boundless love embraces all mankind;
And all their virtues in his life are known;
And all their joys and forrows are his own.

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These are the lights, where stands that friend confeft;

This, this the fpirit, which informs thy breast. Through fortune's cloud thy genuine worth can fhine; What would't thou not, were wealth and greatness

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thine

AN

A N

EPISTLE

MR.

AUTHOR

N

TO

JOHN DYER,

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In Anfwer to his from the Country †.

OW various birds in melting concert fing,

And hail the beauty of the opening fpring: Now to thy dreams the nightingale complains, Till the lark wakes thee with her cheerful trains ; Wakes, in thy verse and friendship ever kind, Melodious comfort to my jarring mind.

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Oh could my foul through epths of knowledge fee, Could I read nature and mankind like thee, I fhould o'ercome, or bear the fhocks of fate, And e'en draw envy to the humbleft state. Thou canst raise honour from each ill event, From fhocks gain vigour, and from want content. Think not light poetry my life's chief care! The Mufe's manfion is, at best, but air; But, if more folid works my meaning forms, Th' unfinish'd ftructures fall by fortune's ftorms. Oft have I faid we falfely thofe accufe, Whose god-like fouls life's middle state refuse. Self-love, I cry'd, there seeks ignoble reft;

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Care fleeps not calm, when millions wake unbleft; 20

M

t See Dyer's Poems.

Mean

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