Though every error stamps me for her own,
And dooms my fall, I fain would fall alone; Though my proud heart no precept now can tame, I love the virtues which I cannot claim.
"Tis not enough, with other sons of power,
To gleam the lambent meteor of an hour,
To swell some peerage page in feeble pride,
With long-drawn names, that grace no page beside;
Then share with titled crowds the common lot,
In life just gazed at, in the grave forgot;
While nought divides thee from the vulgar dead,
Except the dull cold stone that hides thy head,
The mouldering 'scutcheon, or the herald's roll,
That well emblazon'd, but neglected scroll,
Where lords unhonour'd, in the tomb may find
One spot, to leave a worthless name behind.—
There sleep, unnoticed as the gloomy vaults
That veil their dust, their follies, and their faults,
A race with old armorial lists o'erspread,
In records destined never to be read.
Fain would I view thee with prophetic eyes,
Exalted more among the good and wise,
A glorious and a long career pursue,
As first in rank, the first in talent too:
Spurn every vice, each little meanness shun,
Not fortune's minion, but her noblest son.
Turn to the annals of a former day,
Bright are the deeds thine earlier sires display;
One, though a courtier, lived a man of worth,
And call'd, proud boast! the drama forth.*
Another view, not less renown'd for wit,
Alike for courts, and camps, or senates fit;
Thomas S-k-lle, Lord B-k-st, created Earl of D by James the the First, was one of the earliest and brightest ornaments to the poetry of his country, and the first who produced a regular drama.'-Anderson's British Poets.
Bold in the field, and favour'd by the Nine,
In every splendid part ordain'd to shine;
Far, far distinguish'd from the glittering throng,
The pride of princes, and the boast of song.*
Such were thy fathers; thus preserve their name,
Not heir to titles only, but to Fame.
The hour draws nigh, a few brief days will close,
To me,
this little scene of joys and woes;
Each knell of Time now warns me to resign
Shades, where Hope, Peace, and Friendship all were mine;
Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue,
And gild their pinions as the moments flew ;
Peace, that reflection never frown'd away,
By dreams of ill, to cloud some future day;
Friendship, whose truth let childhood only tell,
Alas! they love not long who love so well.
To these adieu! nor let me linger o'er
Scenes, hail'd, as exiles hail their native shore,
Receding slowly through the dark-blue deep,
Beheld by eyes that mourn, yet cannot weep.
D-r-t, farewell! I will not ask one part
Of sad remembrance in so young a heart;
The coming morrow from thy youthful mind
Will sweep my name, nor leave a trace behind.
And yet, perhaps, in some maturer year,
Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere,
Since the same senate, nay the same debate
May one day claim our suffrage for the state,
* Charles S-k―lle, Earl of D, esteemed the most accomplished man of his day, was alike distinguished in the voluptuous court of Charles II. and the gloomy one of William III. He behaved with great gallantry in the sea-fight with the Dutch, in 1665, on the day previous to which he composed his celebrated song. His character has been drawn in the highest colours by Dryden, Pope, Prior, and Congreve.-Vide Anderson's British Poets.
We hence may meet, and pass each other by
With faint regard, or cold and distant eye.
For me, in future, neither friend nor foe,
A stranger to thyself, thy weal, or woe;
With thee no more again I hope to trace
The recollection of our early race;
No more, as once in social hours, rejoice,
Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice.
Still, if the wishes of a heart untaught
To veil those feelings which perchance it ought,
If these but let me cease the lengthen'd strain,
Oh! if these wishes are not breathed in vain,
The guardian seraph who directs thy fate
Will leave thee glorious, as he found thee great.
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