But while I mention him, all flattery hence,

"T would wrong our friendship, and 't would

wrong his sense.

In him we find unite, what rarely meet,
Parts join'd with application, sense with wit;
A piercing eye, a countenance erect,
Quick to invent, judicious to correct;
Warm to attack, but warmer to defend,
The fairest foe, and the sincerest friend;
Above th' intrigues, and windings of a court,
Acknowledg'd merit has his sure support,
His converse new and just delight affords,
Rich in the brightest thoughts and aptest words;
Whene'er he speaks, his audience is charm'd,
Taught by his sense, and by his spirit warm'd.
"But Orford's self, I've seen whilst I have
[head;

read,

Laugh the heart's laugh, and nod th' approving Pardon, great Shade, if, duteous, on thy herse "I hang my grateful tributary verse: "If I who follow'd thro' thy various day,

'Thy glorious zenith and thy bright decay,

"Now strew thy tomb with flow'rs, and o'er thy

urn,

"With England, Liberty, and Envy mourn."
His soul was great, and dar'd not but do well,
His noble pride still urg'd him to excel;
Above the thirst of gold-if in his heart
Ambition govern'd, Av'rice had no part.
A genius to explore untrodden ways,

Where prudence sees no track, nor ever strays; Which books and schools, in vain attempt to teach,

And which laborious art can never reach.

Falsehood and flatt'ry, and the tricks of court, He left to Statesmen of a meaner sort;

Their cloaks and smiles were offer'd him in vain,

His acts were justice which he dar'd maintain, His words were truth that held them in disdain. Open to friends, but ev'n to foes sincere,

Alike remote from jealousy and fear;

Tho' Envy's howl, tho' Faction's hiss he heard, Tho' senates frown'd, tho' death itself appear'd:

Calmly he view'd them-conscious that his ends
Were right, and Truth and Innocence his friends.
Thus was he form'd to govern and to please,
Familiar greatness, dignity with ease,
Compos'd his frame-admir'd in ev'ry state,
In private amiable-in public great :

entle in pow'r-but daring in disgrace, His love was liberty-his wish was peace. Such was the man that smil'd upon my lays, And what can heighten thought or genius [praise;

raise,

Like praise from him whom all mankind must
Whose knowledge, courage,temper, all surpris'd,
Whom many lov'd, few hated, none despis'd.
Here then I rest, and since it is decreed
The pleasing paths of poetry to tread ;
Hear me, O Muse! receive one poet more,
Consenting bend, and pour down all thy store:

No longer constant round Parnassus rove,

But change the scene, and smile on Coldbrook's Grove.*

* Sir Charles Williams's seat in Monmouthshire.-W.

Here too are limpid streams, here oaks their

shade

O'er mossy turf more soft than slumber spread; Expression, thought, and numbers, bring along, But, above all, let truth attend my song:

So shall my verse still please the men I love, Make Winnington commend, and my own Fox

approve.

On the EARL of ISLAY* altering his Gardens

at Whitton, near Hounslow-Heath.

OLD Islay, to shew a most elegant taste,
In improving his grounds, purloin'd from the
waste;

And order'd the gard'ner to open his views,
By cutting a couple of grand avenues.

With secret delight, he saw the first view end,
In his fav'rite prospect, a church that is ruined;
But, what should the next to his Lordship exhibit,
'Twas the terrible sight of a rogue and a gibbet.

* He was Earl of Islay before he succeeded to the Dukedom. Archibald, Duke of Argyle, was slovenly in his person; mysterious, not to say with an air of guilt, in his deportment; slow, steady, where suppleness did not better answer his purpose; revengeful; and, if artful, at least not ingratiating: he loved power too well to hazard it by ostentation, and money so little, that he neither spared it to gain friends, or to serve them. Ob. 1761.-W.