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For friendship fometimes want of parts fupplies,
The heart may furnish what the head denies.
As, when the rapid Rhine o'er swelling tides,
To grace old Ocean's coaft, in triumph rides,
Tho' rich in fource, he drains a thousand springs,
Nor scorns the tribute each small riv'let brings :
So thou fhalt hence absorb each feeble ray,
Each dawn of meaning in thy brighter day;
Shalt like, or where thou canst not like, excufe,
Since no mean interest shall prophane the Mufe;
No malice wrapt in truth's disguise offend,
No flattery taint the freedom of a friend.

When first a generous mind furveys the great,
And views the crowds that on their fortune wait,
Pleas'd with the fhew, (though little understood,)
He only feeks the pow'r, to do the good:
Thinks, till he tries, 'tis godlike to dispose,
And gratitude still springs when bounty flows;
That ev'ry grant fincere affection wins,
And where our wants have end, our love begins.
But they who long the paths of ftate have trod,
Learn from the clamours of the murm'ring crowd,
Which cramm'd, yet craving, ftill their gates befiege,
'Tis easier far to give, than to oblige.

This of thy conduct seems the nicest part,
The chief perfection of the statesman's art,
To give to fair affent a fairer face,

Or foften a refufal into

grace.

But

But few there are, that can be freely kind,
Or know to fix the favours on the mind;
Hence fome whene'er they wou'd oblige, offend,
And while they make the fortune, lofe the friend:
Still give unthank'd; ftill fquander, not beftow;
For great men want not what to give, but how.
The race of men that follow courts, 'tis true,
Think all they get, and more than all, their due;
Still afk, but ne'er confult their own deserts,
And measure by their intereft, not their parts.
From this mistake fo many men we fee
But ill become the thing they wish to be:
Hence discontent and fresh demands arise,

More power, more favour in the great man's eyes
All feel a want, tho' none the caufe fufpects,
But hate their patron for their own defects.

Such none can please, but who reforms their hearts;
And when he gives them places, gives them parts.
As thefe o'erprize their worth, fo fure the great
May fell their favours at too dear a rate.
When merit pines while clamour is prefer'd,
And long attachment waits among the herd;
When no diftinction, where diftinction's due,
Marks from the many the fuperior few;
When ftrong cabal conftrains them to be juft,
And makes them give at last, because they muft;
What hopes that men of real worth fhould prize
What neither friendship gives, nor merit buys.

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The man who justly o'er the whole prefides,

His well-weigh'd choice with wife affection guides:
Knows when to stop with grace, and when advance,
Nor gives from importunity, or chance ;
But thinks how little gratitude is ow'd,

When favours are extorted, not bestow'd.
When safe on shore ourselves, we see the crowd
Surround the great, importunate and loud,
Thro' fuch a tumult 'tis no easy task,
To drive the man of real worth to afk;
Surrounded thus, and giddy with the fhew,
'Tis hard for great men rightly to bestow;
From hence fo few are skill'd in either case,
To afk with dignity, or give with grace.
Sometimes the great, feduc'd by love of parts,
Confult our genius, but neglect our hearts ;
Pleas'd with the glittering sparks that genius flings,
They lift us tow'ring on the eagle's wings:
Mark out the flights by which themselves begun,
And teach our dazzled eyes to bear the fun,
"Till we forget the hand that makes us great,
And grow to envy, not to emulate.
To emulate a generous warmth implies,

To reach the virtues that make great men rife
But envy wears a mean malignant face,
And aims not at their virtues, but their place.
Such to oblige, how vain is the pretence !

When ev'ry favour is a fresh offence,

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By which superior power is still imply'd,
And while it helps the fortune, hurts the pride.
Slight is the hate neglect or hardships breed,

But those who hate from envy, hate indeed.
Since fo perplex'd the choice, whom shall we truft?
Methinks, I hear thee cry, the brave, the juft;
The man by no mean fears or hopes controul'd,
Who ferves thee from affection, not for gold!
We love the honest, and esteem the brave,
Despise the coxcomb, but deteft the knave.
No fhew of parts the truly wife seduce,
To think that knaves can be of real use.
The man who contradicts the public voice,
And ftrives to dignify a worthless choice,
Attempts a task that on the choice reflects,
And lends us light to point out new defects.
One worthless man that gains what he pretends,
Difgufts a thousand unpretending friends;
And fince no art can make a counter pass,
Or add the weight of gold to mimic brafs,
When princes to bad ore their image join,
They more debase the stamp than raise the coin;
Be thine that care, true merit to reward,
And gain that good; nor will the task be hard.
Souls found alike fo quick by nature blend,

An honeft man is more than half thy friend.
Him no mere views, no hafte to rife, fhall fway,
Thy choice to fully, or thy truft betray.

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Ambition here shall at due distance stand,
Nor is wit dangerous in an honeft hand :
Befides, if failings at the bottom lie,

He views those failings with a lover's eye.
Tho' small his genius, let him do his best,
Our wishes and belief fupply the reft:
Let others barter fervile faith for gold,
His friendship is not to be bought or fold,
Fierce oppofition he unmov'd fhall face,
Modeft in favour, daring in difgrace;
To share thy adverse fate alone pretend,
In power a fervant, out of power a friend.
Here pour thy favours in an ample flood,
Indulge thy boundless thirst of doing good.
Nor think that good alone to him confin'd;
Such to oblige is to oblige mankind.

If thus thy mighty mafter's steps thou trace,
The brave to cherish, and the good to grace,
Long fhalt thou ftand from rage and faction free,
And teach us long to love the king and thee;
Or fall a victim, dangerous to the foe,

And make him tremble when he strikes the blow;
While honour, gratitude, affection join,

To deck thy close, and brighten thy decline.
Illuftrious doom! the great when thus difplac'd,
With friendship guarded, and with virtue grac'd,
In aweful ruin, like Rome's fenate, fall

The prey and worship of the wond'ring Gaul.

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