Sonnet to William Melmoth, Esq

Melmoth! in talents and in virtues blest! Pleas'd I contemplate thy attractive page, Where thy mild Pliny, and Rome's guardian Sage, Of purer eloquence, thy powers attest, And rare felicity:—near half an age Our polish'd tongue has rank'd thee with the best Of England's classics; yet detraction's rage Has fail'd to point her arrows at thy breast: Rich in those palms that taste and truth bestow, Who praise in learning's field thy long career, By what nice skill, that worth can seldom shew, Hast thou eluded slander's envious sneer? Blest who excel! but tenfold bliss they know, Who in excelling live without a foe.