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Oh barb'rous! would'st thou with a Gothic hand Pull down the schools-what!-all the schools i' th'

land;

Or throw them up to liv'ry-nags and grooms,
Or turn them into shops and auction rooms?
A captious question, Sir, (and yours is one)
Deserves an answer similar, or none.
Would'st thou, possessor of a flock, employ
(Appriz'd that he is such) a careless boy,
And feed him well, and give him handsome pay,
Merely to sleep, and let them run astray?
Survey our schools and colleges, and see
A sight not much unlike my simile.
From education, as the leading cause,
The public character its colour draws:
Thence the prevailing manners take their cast,
Extravagant or sober, loose or chaste.

And, though I would not advertise them yet,
Nor write on each-This Building to be Let,
Unless the world were all prepar'd t' embrace
A plan well worthy to supply their place;
Yet, backward as they are, and long have been,
To cultivate and keep the MORALS clean,
(Forgive the crime) I wish them, I confess,
Or better manag'd, or encourag'd less.

AN

EPISTLE

ΤΟ

JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.

DEAR JOSEPH-five and twenty years ago—

}

Alas, how time escapes !-'tis even so-
With frequent intercourse, and always sweet,
And always friendly, we were wont to cheat
A tedious hour-and now we never meet!
As some grave gentleman in Terence says,
('Twas therefore much the same 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' assertion 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 worthless that has stood the touch?
No-gold they seem'd, but they were never such.

VOL. II.

Horatio's servant once, with bow and cringe,
Swinging the parlour-door upon its hinge,
Dreading a negative, and overaw'd

Lest he should trespass, begg'd to go abroad.
Go, fellow!-whither?-turning short about-
Nay-stay at home-you're always going out.
'Tis but a step, Sir, just at the street's end.—
For what?-An please you, Sir, to see a friend.
A friend! Horatio cried, and seem'd to start-
Yea marry shalt thou, and with all my heart.—
And fetch my cloak: for, though the night be raw,
I'll see him too-the first I ever saw.

I knew the man, and knew his nature mild,
And was his plaything often when a child;
But somewhat at that moment pinch'd him close,
Else he was seldom bitter or morose.

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
To prove an evil of which all complain,
(I hate long arguments, verbosely spun)
One story more, dear HILL, and I have done.
Once on a time an emp'ror, a wise man—
No matter where, in China or Japan-
Decreed, that whosoever should offend

Against the well-known duties of a friend,

Convicted once, should ever after wear
But half a coat, and show his bosom 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 ;
Else, could a law like that which I relate
Once have the sanction of our triple state,
Some few, that I have known in days of old,
Would run most dreadful risk of catching cold;
While you, my friend, whatever wind should blow,
Might traverse England safely to and fro,
An honest man, close-button'd to the chin,
Broad-cloth without, and a warm heart within.

ASPATIO.

[FROM THE ANNUAL BILL OF MORTALITY, NORTHAMPTON.]

--Placidaq: ibi demum morte quievit.

VIRG

Then calm at length he breath'd his soul away.

"OH most delightful hour by man

"Experienc'd here below; "The hour that terminates his span,

"His folly and his woe.

"Worlds should not bribe me back to tread

"Again life's dreary waste;

"To see my days again o'erspread

"With all the gloomy past.

"My home, henceforth, is in the skies,
"Earth, seas, and sun adieu;
"All heaven unfolded to my eyes,
"I have no sight for you."

Thus spake Aspatio, firm possest
Of Faith's supporting rod;
Then breath'd his soul into its rest,
The bosom of his God.

He was a man, among the few,
Sincere on Virtue's side,

And all his strength from scripture drew,
To hourly use apply'd.

That rule he priz'd, by that he fear'd,
He hated, hop'd, and lov'd,

Nor ever frown'd, or sad appear'd,

But when his heart had rov'd.

For he was frail as thou or I,
And evil felt within,

But when he felt it, heav'd a sigh,
And loath'd the thought of sin.

Such liv'd Aspatio, and at last
Call'd up from earth to heav'n;
The gulf of death triumphant pass'd
By gales of blessing driven.

His joys be MINE, each reader cries,
When my last hour arrives:

They shall be yours, my verse replies,
Such ONLY be your lives.

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