The Sons of science, these, who, thus repaid, Yet prizing BENTLEY'S, BRUNCK'S (1), or PORSON's (2) note, (1) Celebrated Critics. 1806. (2) The present Greek Professor at Trinity College, Cambridge; a man, whose powers of mind and writings, may, perhaps justify their preference. (3) Since this was written, Lord H. P- -y has lost his place, and subsequently (I had almost said consEQUENTLY), the honour of representing the University; a fact so glaring requires no comment. TO THE EARL OF Tu semper amoris << Sis memor, et cari comitis ne abscedat Imago. » I. VALERIUS FLaccus. FRIEND of my youth! when young we roy'd, With Friendship's purest glow; The bliss which wing'd those rosy hours 2. The recollection seems, alone, Dearer than all the joys I've known, Though pain, 'tis still a pleasing pain, 3. My pensive mem❜ry lingers o'er The measure of our youth is full, Life's evening dream is dark and dull, And we may meet-ah! never! 4. As when one parent spring supplies Two streams, which from one fountain rise, How soon, diverging from their source, 5. Our vital streams of weal or woe, Now swift or slow, now black or clear, 6. Our souls, my Friend! which once supplied Disdaining humbler rural sports, 7. 'Tis mine to waste on love my time, For Sense and Reason, (critics know it,) 8. Poor LITTLE! sweet, melodious bard! 9. And yet, while beauty's praise is thine, 10. Still, I must yield those worthies merit, Bad rhymes, and those who write them; And though myself may be the next, I really will not fight them (2); (1) These stanzas were written soon after the appearance of a severe critique in a Northern review, on a new publication of the British Anacreon. (2) A Bard, (Horresco referens,) defied his reviewer to mortal combat. If this example becomes prevalent, our periodical censors must be dipt in the river Styx; for what else can secure them from the numerous host of their enged assailants. II. Perhaps, they would do quite as well, He who offends at pert nineteen, Ere thirty may become, I ween, Now -I must return to you, And sure apologies are due, Accept then my concession; In truth, dear, in fancy's flight, 13. I think, I said, 'twould be your fate May regal smiles attend you; And should a noble Monarch reign, 14. Yet, since in danger courts abound, From snares may saints preserve you; And grant, your love or friendsip ne'er From claim a kindred care, any But those who best deserve you. |