Proemium

Pollio, to Thee, my Patron and my Friend, The secret counsels of my soul I send: Long since thy godlike Uncle held me dear (Fate gave me early to thy House's care); He dy'd, and left me unattach'd and free, Left me a legacy from Him to Thee.

Mem'ry, rare gift! but giv'n us to our cost, Thou faithful Register of Good, when lost! Trace ev'ry feature of the fav'rite piece, Revive his Grace, his Dignity, and Ease; His Courage cool, his Wisdom void of art, The gentlest Manners, and the warmest Heart; His Soul with ev'ry noblest passion fraught, And carrying Friendship sometimes to a fault; In Arts or Arms, in Battle, or Debate, He guarded, grac'd, and dignify'd the State; Deserv'd the Laurel and the Bay that crown The blended honours of the Sword and Gown; His Country's Bulwark, her Delight and Pride, In War he conquer'd, and in Peace he dy'd: His Mem'ry shall to latest times descend. Such was the Man that bade me call him Friend. And now let Envy all his actions scan, Then let her call me Flatt'rer, if she can: The vain reproach I shall with scorn receive; I wanted no distinction He could give, Save one, to all superior and supreme, His Friendship, his Affection, his Esteem. Oh! long and much belov'd, Oh! dearly mourn'd, How often has my throbbing bosom burn'd Th' effusions of a grateful heart to pour O'er sacred Friendship— now, alas! no more.

Ere long, my gentle Friend, will come thy turn To drop a pious tear on my poor urn; Thy feeling heart will not the task decline— The virtues of Humanity are thine: But tho' from Friendship's source the Passions rise That flood the Soul, and swell into the Eyes, Th' effect will differ, tho' the source the same; My tear is Gratitude, but Thine is Fame.

Farewel, illustrious Shade! for ever rest Distinguish'd in the Mansions of the Blest! From thence, while, darkling, we thy Star survey, Thy bright Example marks and lights the way.

'Tis well.—The throbbing of the heart subsides, The blood begins to flow in sprightlier tides: From Thee, my Friend, the soul with joy surveys The Page of Mem'ry mark'd with brighter days; From Thee—thy Mien, thy Manners, and thy Smile Recall the gen'rous, graceful, brave ARGYLL. Thus own'd by Thee, thus Client of thy Race, Where could I else, with Dignity or Grace, From ev'ry Prejudice and Passion free, Lay bare the Mind's Recesses, but to Thee? Often, as from the pomp thy state requires, To Contemplation's cell thy Friend retires, Fast by the banks of Thames, his active mind Dwells on the motley mask he left behind: So far the wide Society extends, So num'rous those we call from Custom Friends; Yet, num'rous as they are, so very few Wish what they ought, or as they ought pursue, He scarce can tell what the whole Drama means, Can fix the Plan, or separate the Scenes; All would be great, but who with Care attends Whence Greatness springs, it's Progress, and it's Ends?

How to direct their wand'ring footsteps right, Or place their Errors in a stronger light, And mark the Failings that mislead the Throng Thro' Life, shall be the Subject of my Song.