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النشر الإلكتروني

Then judge yourself, and prove your man
As circumspectly as you can,

And having made election,
Beware no negligence of

yours, Such as a friend but ill endures,

Enfeeble his affection.

That secrets are a sacred trust,

That friends should be sincere and just,

That constancy befits them,

Are observations on the case,

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That savour much of commonplace,

And all the world admits them.

a

But 'tis not timber, lead, and stone,
An architect requires alone,

To finish a fine building-
The palace were but half complete,
If he could possibly forget

The carving and the gilding.

The man that hails you Tom or Jack,
And proves by thumps upon your back 170

How he esteems your merit,
Is such a friend, that one had need
Be very much his friend indeed,

To pardon or to bear it.

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As similarity of mind,
Or something not to be defin'd,

First fixes our attention;

So manners decent and polite,
The same we practis'd at first sight,

Must save it from declension..

ISO

Some act upon this prudent plan,

Say little, and hear all you can.”

Safe policy, but hateful-
So barren sands imbibe the show'r,
But render neither fruit nor flow'r,

Unpleasant and ungrateful.

The man I trust, if shy to me,
Shall find me as reserv'd as he,

No subterfuge or pleading
Shall win my confidence again,
I will by no means entertain

A spy on my proceeding.

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These samples for alas! at last
These are but samples, and a taste

Of evils yet unmention'd-
May prove the task a task indeed,
In which 'tis much if we succeed,

However well-intention'd.

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Pursue the search, and you will find
Good sense and knowledge of mankind

To be at least expedient,
And, after summing all the rest,
Religion ruling in the breast

A principal ingredient.

The noblest Friendship ever shown
The Saviour's history makes known,

Though some have turn’d and turn'd it;
And, whether being craz’d or blind,
Or seeking with a biass'd mind,

seems,

discern'd it.

Have not,

it

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O friendship! if my soul forego
Thy dear delights while here below;

To mortify and grieve me,
May I myself at last appear
Unworthy, base, and insincere,

Or may my friend deceive me!

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ON A MISCHIEVOUS BULL,

WHICH THE OWNER OF HIM SOLD AT THE AUTHOR'S

INSTANCE,

Go-Thou art all unfit to share

The pleasures of this place
With such as it's old tenants are,

Creatures of gentler race.

The squirrel here his hoard provides,

Aware of wintry storms,
And wood-peckers explore the sides

Of rugged oaks for worms;

The sheep here smooths the knotted thorn

With frictions of her fleece;

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And here I wander eve and morn,

Like her, a friend to peace.

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