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Some act upon this prudent plan,
“Say little, and hear all you can :"

Safe policy, but hateful-
So barren sands imbibe the shower,
But render neither fruit nor flower, -

Unpleasant and ungrateful.
The man I trust, if shy to me,
Shall find me as reserved as he;

No subterfuge or pleading
Shall win my confidence again ;
I will by no means entertain

A spy on my proceeding.
These samples—for alas ! at last
These are but samples, and a taste

Of evils yet unmentioned
May prove the task a task indeed,
In which 'tis much if we succeed,

However well-intentioned.

Pursue the search and you will find
Good sense and knowledge of mankind

To be at least expedient;
And, after summing all the rest,
Religion ruling in the breast

A principle ingredient.
The noblest Friendship ever shown
The Saviour's history makes known,

Thoug' some have turned and turned it;

And, whether being crazed or blind,
Or seeking with a biassed mind,

Have not, it seems, discerned it.

0! Friendship, if my soul forego Thy dear delights while here below;

To mortify and grieve me, May I myself at last appear Unworthy, base, and insincere,

Or may my friend deceive me!



The kind old friendly feelings !

We have their spirit yet,
Though years and years have passed, old friend,

Since thou and I last met!
And something of gray Time's advance

Seems in thy fading eye,
Yet 'tis the same good honest glance

I loved in times gone by-
Ere the kind old friendly feelings

Had ever brought one sigh!
The warm old friendly feelings !

Ah, who need yet be told
No other links can bind the heart

Like those loved links of old !
Thy hand I joyed in youth to clasp,

The touch of age may show,
Yet 'tis the same true hearty grasp

I loved so long ago
Ere the last old friendly feelings

Had taught one tear to flow!
The kind old friendly feelings!

Oh, seem they e'er less dear,
Because some recollections

May meet us with a tear?
Though hopes we shared-the early beams

Ambition showed our way-
Have fled, dear friend, like morning dreams

Before Truth's searching ray-
Still we've kept the kind old feelings

That blessed our youthful day!



Know'st thou, Lorenzo! what a friend contains As bees mixed nectar draw from fragrant flowers, So men from friendship wisdom and delight; Twins tied by nature, if they part they die. Hast thou no friend to set thy mind abroach ?

Good sense will stagnate: thoughts shut up want air,
And spoil, like bales unopened to the sun.
Had thought been all, sweet speech, had been

denied ; Speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's crite

rion too! Thought in the mine may come forth gold or dross ; When coined in words we know its real worth. If sterling, store it for thy future use; 'T will buy the benefit! perhaps, renown. Thought, too, delivered is the more possessed : Teaching, we learn: and, giving, we retain The births of intellect; when dumb, forgot. Speech ventilates our intellectual fire : Speech burnishes our mental magazine ; Brightens, for ornament; and whets, for use. What numbers, sheathed in erudition, lie, Plunged to the hilts in venerable tomes, And rusted in; who might have borne an edge, And played a sprightly beam, if born to speech; If born blessed heirs of half their mother's tongue ! 'Tis thought's exchange; which, like th' alternate

push Of waves conflicting, breaks the learned scum, And defectates the student's standing pool.

In contemplation is his proud resource ? 'Tis poor, as proud, by converse unsustained. Rude thought runs wild in contemplation's field: Converse, the manége, breaks it to the bit Of due restraint; and emulation's spur

Gives graceful energy, by rivals awed.
'Tis converse qualifies for solitude ;
As exercise, for salutary rest.
By that untutored, contemplation raves;
And nature's fool by wisdom's is outdone.

Wisdom, though richer than Peruvian mines, ,
And sweeter than the sweet ambrosial hive,
What is she, but the means of happiness?
That unobtained, than folly more a fool,
A melancholy fool, without her bells.
Friendship, the means of wisdom, richly gives
The precious end which makes our wisdom wise.
Nature, in zeal for human amity,
Denies or damps an undivided joy.
Joy is an important; joy is an exchange;
Joy flies monopolists: it calls for two;
Rich fruit! Heaven planted! never plucked by one.
Needful auxiliars are our friends, to give
To social man true relish of himself.
Full on ourselves, descending in a line,
Pleasure's bright beam is feeble in delight:
Delight intense is taken by rebound;
Reverberated pleasures fire the breast.

Celestial Happiness, whene'er she stoops To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds, And one alone, to make her sweet amends For absent heaven—the bosom of a friend ; Where heart meets heart, reciprocally soft, Each other's pillow to repose divine. Beware the counterfeit: in passion's flame

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