ne'er misfortune's eastern bst
did nip a fairer flower.)
since life's gay ses must charm no more,
still much is left behind,
still nobler wealth hast thou in store—
the forts of the mind!
thine is the self-approving glow,
of scious honour's part;
and (dearest gift of heaven below)
thine friendship's truest heart.
the joys refin'd of sense and taste,
with every muse to rove:
and doubly were the poet blest,
these joys could he improve.
r.b.