"Tis not in artful measures, in the chime And idle tinkling of a minstrel's lyre,

To charm his ear, whofe eye is on the heart; Whose frown can disappoint the proudeft ftrain, Whose approbation-prosper even mine.

AN

EPISTLE

то

JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.

DEAR JOSEPH-five and twenty years ago—
Alas, how time efcapes !-'tis even fo-
With frequent intercourse, and always sweet,
And always friendly, we were wont to cheat
A tedious hour-and now we never meet!
As fome grave gentleman in Terence says,

("Twas therefore much the fame in ancient days)
Good lack, we know not what to-morrow brings-
Strange fluctuation of all human things!
True. Changes will befall, and friends may part,
But distance only cannot change the heart:
And, were I call'd to prove th' affertion true,
One proof should serve-a reference to you.

Whence comes it then, that in the wane of life, Though nothing have occurr'd to kindle strife, We find the friends we fancied we had won, Though num'rous once, reduc'd to few or none? Can gold grow worthlefs that has stood the touch? No-gold they seem'd, but they were never such.

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 fhort about-
Nay-ftay at home-you're always going out.
'Tis but a step, fir, juft at the street's end.—
For what? An please you, fir, to see a friend.
A friend! Horatio cry'd, and feen'd to start-
Yea marry fhalt thou, and with all my heart.-
And fetch my cloak: for, though the night be raw,
I'll fee him too-the firft I ever faw.

I knew the man, and knew his nature mild, And was his plaything often when a child; But fomewhat at that moment pinch'd him close, Elfe he was feldom bitter or morofe.

Perhaps, his confidence juft 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 ftrain
To prove an evil of which all complain,
(I hate long arguments, verbofely fpun)
One ftory more, dear Hill, and I have done.

Once on a time an emp'ror, a wife man

No matter where, in China or Japan

Decreed that whofoever fhould offend

Against the well-known duties of a friend,

Convicted once, should ever after wear
But half a coat, and fhow his bofom bare.
The punishment importing this, no doubt,
That all was naught within, and all found out.

Oh, happy Britain! we have not to fear Such hard and arbitrary measure here;