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To prove at last my main intent
Needs no expense of argument,

No cutting and contriving-
Seeking a real friend we seem
T adopt the chymists golden dream,

With still less hope of thriving.

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

By trespass or omission;
Sometimes occasion brings to light
Our friend's defect long hid from sight, ad
And even from suspicion.


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

And, having made election, Beware no negligence of yours, r9412 Such as a friend but ill endures, Enfeeble his affection.

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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 places, i tudi

And all the world admits them, lqaj

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

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

The carving and thc 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 defin'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.

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These samples—for alas! at last
These are but samples, and a taste

Of evils yet unmention'de
May prove the task a task indeed,
In which 'tis 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 somming 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!

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On a mischievous Bull, which the owner of him

sold at the Author's instance.

Go-Thou art all unfit to share

The pleasures of this place
With such as it's old tenants are,

Creatures of gentler race.

The squirrel here his hoard provides,

Aware of wintry storms,
And wood-peckers explore the sides

Of rugged oaks for worms

The sheep here smootbs the knotted thorn'

With frictions of her fleece;
And here I wander eve and morn,

Like her, a friend to peace.

Ah !-I could pity thee exild

From this secure retreat-
I would not lose it to be styld

The happiest of the great.

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