To thy candour now, HAYLEY, I offer the line,
Which after thy model I fain would refine.
Thy skill, in each trial of melody sweeter,
Can to elegant themes adapt frolicksome metre;
And at will, with a comic or tender controul,
Now speak to the humour, and now to the soul.
We’ll turn from the objects of satire and spleen,
That late, uncontrasted; disfigured the scene;
To WRAY leave the rage the defeated attends,
And the conqueror hail in the arms of his friends;
Count with emulous zeal the selected and true,
Enroll in the list, and the triumph pursue.
These are friendships that bloomed in the morning of life,
Those were grafted on thorns midst political strife;
Alike they matured from the stem, or the flower,
Unblighted by int’rest, unshaken by power.
Bright band! to whose feelings in constancy tried,
Disfavour is glory, oppression is pride;
Attached to his fortunes, and fond of his fame,
Vicissitudes pass but to shew you the same.

But whence this fidelity, new to the age?
Can parts, though sublime, such attachments engage?
No: the dazzle of parts may the passions allure,
’Tis the heart of the friend makes affections endure.
The heart that intent on all worth but its own,
Assists every talent, and arrogates none;
The feeble protects, as it honours the brave,
Expands to the just, and hates only the knave.

These are honours, my FOX, that are due to thy deeds;
But lo! yet a brighter alliance succeeds;
The alliance of beauty in lustre of youth,
That shines on thy cause with the radiance of truth.
The conviction they feel the fair zealots impart,
And the eloquent eye sends it home to the heart.
Each glance has the touch of Ithuriel’s spear,
That no art can withstand, no delusion can bear,
And the effort of malice and lie of the day,
Detected and scorn’d, break like vapour away.

Avaunt, ye profane! the fair pageantry moves:
An entry of VENUS, led on by the loves!
Behold how the urchins round DEVONSHIRE press!
For order, submissive, her eyes they address:
She assumes her command with a diffident smile,
And leads, thus attended, the pride of the Isle.

Oh! now for the pencil of GUIDO! to trace,
Of KEPPEL the features, of WALDEGRAVES the grace;
Of FITZROY the bloom the May morning to vie,
Of SEFTON the air, of DUNCANNON the eye;
Of LOFTUS the smiles (though with preference proud,
She gives ten to her husband, for one to the croud),
Of PORTLAND the manner, that steals on the breast,
But is too much her own to be caught or express’d;
The charms that with sentiment BOUVERIE blends,
The fairest of forms and the truest of friends;
The look that in WARBURTON, humble and chaste,
Speaks candour and truth, and discretion and taste;
Or with equal expression in HORTON combined,
Vivacity’s dimples with reason refined.

REYNOLDS, haste to my aid, for a figure divine,
Where the pencil of GUIDO has yielded to thine;
Bear witness the canvas where SHERIDAN lives,
And with angels, the lovely competitor, strives——
While Earth claims her beauty and Heaven her strain,
Be it mine to adore ev’ry link of the chain!

But new claimants appear ere the lyre is unstrung,
Can PAYNE be passed by? Shall not MILNER be sung?
See DELME and HOWARD, a favourite pair,
For grace of both classes, the zealous and fair——
A verse for MORANT, like her wit may it please,
Another for BRADDYLL of elegant ease,
For BAMFYLDE a simile worthy her frame——
Quick, quick—I have yet half a hundred to name——
Not PARNASSUS in concert could answer the call,
Nor multiplied muses do justice to all.

Then follow the throng where with festal delight,
More pleasing than HEBE, CREWE opens the night.
Not the goblet nectareous of welcome and joy,
That DIDO prepared for the hero of TROY;
Not Fiction, describing the banquets above,
Where goddesses mix at the table of JOVE;
Could afford to the soul more ambrosial cheer
Than attends on the fairer associates here.
But CREWE, with a mortal’s distinction content,
Bounds her claim to the rites of this happy event;
For the hero to twine civic garlands of fame,
With the laurel and rose interweaving his name,
And while IÖ PÆans his merits avow,
As the Queen of the feast, place the wreath on his brow.