^*PR 4 3506 i f. H9ept I Um^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Hbk. :~ '^> ■._^.^. _^^^^^ °^ ^^1 »B|^| Hay ley ^^^:> ^^^^^^1 4 — — i= - ^^^^^^H Epistle to a Friend l^a THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES 'Sil EPISTLE T O A FRIEND, ONTHEDEATHOF JOHNTHORNTON, Esq. BY THE AUTHOR OF '< AN EPJS7-LE TO JN EMINENT PAINTER." CUJUS EGO INTERITU TOTA DE MENTE FUGAVI njEC STUDIA, AT(iUE OMNES DELICIAS ANIMI. NOTESCATQUE MAGIS MORTUUS ATQUE MAGIS. Catullus. LONDON: Printed for J. D O D S L E Y, in Pall-Mall. M.DCC.LXXX. 35"ofc EPISTLE, ^c. tN vain, dear Monitor, thy kind defire To wake the embers of poetic fire ! To clear the mind, where Grief's dark fhadows lower. And Fancy dies by Sorrow's freezing power ! In vain would Friendlhip's chearing voice fuggeft ^ Her flattering vifions to the Poet's breaft j That public favor calls, with juft demand, Th' expelled volume from his lingering hand : Loft are thofe anxious hopes, that eager pride, With thee, ray Thornton, they declin'd, they died. lo B Friend 960935 [ 6 ] Friend of my opening loul! whoie love began To hail tliy Poet, ere he rank'd as man ! Whofe praife, like dew-drops, which the early morn Sheds with mild virtue on the vernal thorn, Taught his young mind each Iwell of thought to (hew, i c And gave the germs of fancy ftrength to blow ! Dear, firm aiTociate of his ftudious hour, Who led his idler ftep to Learning's bower ! Tho' young, imparting to his giddier youth Thy thirft of fclence, and thy zeal for truth I 20 Ye towers of Granta, where our friendfhip grew,, And that pure mitid expanded to my view,, Our love fraternal let thy walls atteft. Where Attic joys our letter d evening bleft ; Where midnight, from the chains of deep reliev'd, 25 Stole on our focial ftudles unperceiv'd I o But [ 7 ] But not, my Thornton ! in that calm alone Was thy mild genius, thy warm virtue known ; When manhood mark'd the hour for bufy ftrife, And led us to the crowded maze of life, jo From whence to fweet retirement's fbothing Ihade, Love and the Muie thy willing friend convey 'd ; Thy foul, more firm to join the ftruggling crowd, To nobler Themis toilfbme homage vow'd, With zeal, devoting to her lacred throne 5r A heart as uncorrupted as her own. Still as thy mind, with manly powers endued, The opening path of active life purlued. And round the ripening field of bufinefs rang'd. Thy heart, unwarp'd, unharden'd, uneftrang'd, 40 To early friendihip ftill retain'd its truth, With all the warm integrity of youth. B 2 Whene'er [ 8 3 Whene'er affli£llon*s force thy friend oppreft', Thou wer't the rock on which his cares might reft j From thy kind words his rifing hopes would own 45 The charm of realbn in affection's tone. Where is the {bothing voice of equal power. To take it's anguifh from the prefent hour ? Beneath the preflure of a grief (b juft,, The lenient aid of books in vain I trufr: 5,0 They, that could once the war of thought controul, And baniOi difcord fro!:n the jarring foul, Now irritate the mind, they uied to heal, They ipeak too loudly of the lofs I feel. Thou faithful cenfbr of the Poet's ft rain, 55 No more fhalt thou his fmking hope fuftain^ No more, with ardent zeal's enlivening fire, Call from inglorious Oiades his filent lyre : No [ 9 ] No more, as in our days of pleaiure paft, The eye of judgment o'er his labors caft j 60 Keen to difcern the blemilhes, that lurk In the loofe texture of his growing work ; Eager to praile, yet refblute to blame, Kind to his verfe, but kinder to his fame. How may the Muie, who profper'd by thy care,, 61^ Now meet the public eye without defpair? Now,, if harlli cenfures on her failings pour. Her warmeft advocate can fpeak no more :. Cold are thofe lips, which breath'd the kind defence,. If fpleen's proud cavil ftrain'd her tortur'd lenfe ; 70 Which bade her long to public praiie alpire, And call'd attention to her trembling lyre. Ah ! could fhe now, thus petrified with grief. Find in Ibme lighter lay a vain relief, 5 S^^ [ lO ] Still muft fhe deem fuch verfe, if fuch could be, 75 A wound to friendiliip, and a crime to thee ; Profanely utter'd at this facred time, When thy pale corfe demands her plaintive rhime, And Virtue, weeping whom Oie could not fave, Calls the juft mourner to thy recent grave. 80 Hail hallowed vault ! whofe darlcibme caverns hold A frame, though mortal, of no common mould ; A heart (carce fuUied with a human flaw, Which iliun'd no duty, and tranlgrcfs'd no law ; In joy ft ill guarded, in diftrefs ferene, 85 Thro' life a model of the golden mean. Which fiiendfliip only led him to tranfgrefs, Whofe purer fpirit fandlifies cxcefs. Pure mind ! whofe meeknefs, in thy mortal days, Purfuing virtue, ftill retir'd from praiie; f)o Nor l: " ] Nor wifh'd that friendflilp iliould on marble give That perfect image of thy worth to live, Which 'twas thy aim alone to leave impreft On the clofe tablet of her faithful breaft. If now her verie againft thy wifh rebel, 95. And ftrive to blazon, what flie lov'd fo well. Forgive the tender thought, the moral fong, Which would thy virtues to the world prolong ; That, refcued from the grave's oblivious iliade, Their ufeful luftre may be ftill furvey'd^ 10© Dear to the penfive eye of fond regret, As light ftill beaming from a fun that's let. Oft to our giddy Mufe thy voice has taughc Thejuft ambition of poetic thought; Bid her bold view to lateft time extend, to^ And ftrive to make futurity her friend. If [ I^ ] If any verfe, her little art can frame, May win the partial voice of diftant fame, Be it the verfe, whofe fond ambition tries To paint thy mind in truth's unfading dyes, no Tho' firm, yet tender, ardent, yet refin'd ; With Roman ftrength and Attic grace combin'd. What tho' undeck'd with titles, power, and wealth, Great were thy generous deeds, and done by ftealth ; For thy pure bounty from obfervance ftole, 115 Nor wiih'd applaufe, but from thy confeious fouL Tho' thy plain tomb no feulptur'd form may fhew. No boaftful witnels of fufpe£led woe j Yet heavenly fhapes, that fhun the glare of day. To that dear fpot fhall nightly vifits pay : 120 Pale Science there fliall o'er her votary ftrew Her flow'rs, yet mbift with ferrow's recent dew. There [ '3 J There Charity, Companion's lovely childj In ruftic notes pathetically wild, With grateful ble/Tings bid thy name endure, 125 And mourn the patron of her village-poor. E'en from the midnight fhew with mufic gay,. The foul of Beauty to thy tomb fliall ftray. In l\veet diftra