ACCEPT, my much respected Friend!
The worthless lays I've penn'd;
Though they may be of merit free,
They're meant not to offend.

How blest and happy is that youth,
If such a youth there be,
Who is of malice and envy,
And of ill-nature free?

Whose breast ne'er swells with passions fierce,
Nor's puffed up with pride;
Who sees the faults that are his own,
And strives his friend's to hide?

Who to the will of Providence,
In ev'ry state's resign'd,
And ev'ry turn of Fortune bears
Still with an equal mind?

Who lives and's not afraid of death,
But still keeps't in the eye,
And learneth, through the whole of life,
That irksome talk-to Die?

Dear Sir, let honour be your guide,
In all your words and deeds;
Frequent sweet Virtue's lovely path;
To happiness she leads.

Avoid with care those wicked youths,
And still their ways despise,
Who bring yound Maids to endless shame,
Regardless of their cries.

May thou soon find a worthy Wife,
Who on thy ways may smile:
Let not ambition, pride, nor wealth,
Thy friendly heart beguile:

Then when the Muse my bosom fires,
And captivates my soul,
My glowing heart, and raptur'd tongue,
Thy praises loud will tell.


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