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Sometimes the fault is all our own, Some blemish in due time made known,

By trespass or omission; Sometimes occasion brings to light Our friend's defect, long hid froin sight,

And even from suspicion,

Then judge yourself, and prove your man As circumspectly as you can,

And, having made election, Beware no negligence of your's, Such as a friend but ill endures,

Enfeeble his affection.

That secrets are a sacred trust,
That friends should be sincere and just,

That constancy befits them,
Are observations on the case,
That savour much of common-place,

And all the world admits them.

But 't is not timber, lead, and stone,
An architect requires alone,

To finish a fine building-
The palace were but half complete,
If he could possibly forget

The carving and the gilding.

The man that hails you-Tom, or Jack,
And proves by thumps upon your back

How he esteems your merit,
Is such a friend, that one had need
Be very much his friend indeed,

To pardon or to bear it.

As similarity of mind,
Or something not to be detin'd,

First fixes our attention,
So manners decent and polite,
The same we practis'd at first sight,

Must save it from declension.

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

Safe policy, but hateful-
So barren sands imbibe the show'r,
But render neither fruit nor flow'r,

Unpleasant and ungrateful.

The man I trust, if shy to me,
Shall find me as reserv'd 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 unmention'd-
May prove the task a task indeed,
In which 't is much if we succeed,

However well-intention'd,

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 principal ingredient.

The noblest friendship ever shown
The Saviour's history makes known,

Though some have turn'd and turn'd it,
And, whether being craz’d or blind,
Or seeking with a biass'd mind,

Have not, it seems, discern'd it.

O 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.

BOADICEA:

AN ODE.

When the British warrior queen,

Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien,

Counsel of her country's gods,

Sage, beneath the spreading oak,

Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Ev'ry burning word he spoke,

Fall of rage, and full of grief.

« Princess! if your aged eyes

Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, T is because resentment ties

All the terrors of our tongues.

Rome shall perish-write that word

In the blood that she has spilt; Perish, hopeless and abhorrd,

Deep in ruin as in guilt.

“ Rome, for empire far renown’d,

Tramples on a thousand states; Soon her pride shall kiss the groundHark! the Gaul is at her gates !

T

“ Other Romans shall arise,

Heedless of a soldier's name; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize,

Harmony the path to fame.

“ Then the progeny, that springs

From the forests of our land, Arm'd with thunder, clad with wings,

Shall a wider world command.

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She, with all a monarch's pride,

Felt them in her bosom glow; Rush'd to battle, fought, and died ;

Dying, hurl'd them at the foe.

“ Ruffians, pitiless as proud,

Heav'n awards the vengeance due; Empire is on us bestow'd,

Shame and ruin wait for you."

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