Whom flow'rs alone I knew would little please, Let fall th' unfinish'd wreath, and rov'd for fruit; To charm his ear, whofe eye is on the heart; ΑΝ EPISTLE то JOSEPH H I L Ĺ, HILL, ESQ. DEAR JOSEPH-five and twenty years ago- A tedious hour and now we never meet. P True. Changes will befall, and friends may part, And, 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 ftood 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. Go, fellow!-whither?-turning short about Nay. Stay at home; you're always going out. 'Tis but a step, fir, just at the street's end— For what? An please you, fir, to fee a friend. A friend! Horatio cried, and feem'd to ftart Yea marry fhalt thou, and with all my heart And fetch my cloak, for though the night be raw I knew the man, and knew his nature mild, And was his play-thing often when a child; But fomewhat at that moment pinch'd him close, Perhaps, his confidence just then betray'd, His grief might prompt him with the speech he made; Perhaps 'twas mere good-humour gave it birth, The harmless play of pleasantry and mirth. Howe'er it was, his language, in my mind, Bespoke at least a man that knew mankind. But not to moralize too much, and strain No matter where, in China or Japan, Decreed |