If love, inherent in a parent's heart,
Sighs for that lost Marcellus of his art,
Still can I joy, that with rare length of days,
Heaven yet allows my hallow'd friend to raise,
(And with his own more energetic hand
Whose works the ravages of time withstand,)
A portrait of himself:--thou much-lov'd sage!
Far yet extend that biographic page,
Where conscious of existence well employ'd,
And mental treasures gratefully enjoy'd,
Thy virtuous age will morally display
The various labours of thy useful day:
And in thy own rich eloquence enshrin'd,
Leave thy instructive life, a lesson for mankind!
Epistle
TO JOHN SARGENT, ESQ.
OCTOBER, 1814.
Epistle.
Friend of my vernal and autumnal day,
In life's gay bloom, and in its slow decay:
Sargent! who leav'st thy hermit's studious cell,
To act thy busier part, and act it well,
In courts of rural justice to preside,
In temperate dignity unstain'd with pride.
Oft let us meet, that friendship's honour'd chain,
In its extension may new lustre gain;
So let us, cheer'd by memory's social blaze,
Live o'er again our long-departed days.
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