To the Duke of Dorset

  1. 1Dorset! whose early steps with mine have stray'd,
  2. 2Exploring every path of Ida's glade;
  3. 3Whom, still, affection taught me to defend,
  4. 4And made me less a tyrant than a friend,
  5. 5Though the harsh custom of our youthful band
  6. 6Bade thee obey, and gave me to command;
  7. 7Thee, on whose head a few short years will shower
  8. 8The gift of riches, and the pride of power;
  9. 9E'en now a name illustrious is thine own,
  10. 10Renown'd in rank, not far beneath the throne.
  11. 11Yet, Dorset, let not this seduce thy soul
  12. 12To shun fair science, or evade controul;
  13. 13Though passive tutors, fearful to dispraise
  14. 14The titled child, whose future breath may raise,
  15. 15View ducal errors with indulgent eyes,
  16. 16And wink at faults they tremble to chastise.
  17. 17When youthful parasites, who bend the knee
  18. 18To wealth, their golden idol, not to thee,--
  19. 19And even in simple boyhood's opening dawn
  20. 20Some slaves are found to flatter and to fawn,--
  21. 21When these declare, "that pomp alone should wait
  22. 22On one by birth predestin'd to be great;
  23. 23That books were only meant for drudging fools,
  24. 24That gallant spirits scorn the common rules;"
  25. 25Believe them not,--they point the path to shame,
  26. 26And seek to blast the honours of thy name:
  27. 27Turn to the few in Ida's early throng,
  28. 28Whose souls disdain not to condemn the wrong;
  29. 29Or if, amidst the comrades of thy youth,
  30. 30None dare to raise the sterner voice of truth,
  31. 31Ask thine own heart--'twill bid thee, boy, forbear!
  32. 32For well I know that virtue lingers there.
  1. 33Yes! I have mark'd thee many a passing day,
  2. 34But now new scenes invite me far away;
  3. 35Yes! I have mark'd within that generous mind
  4. 36A soul, if well matur'd, to bless mankind;
  5. 37Ah! though myself, by nature haughty, wild,
  6. 38Whom Indiscretion hail'd her favourite child;
  7. 39Though every error stamps me for her own,
  8. 40And dooms my fall, I fain would fall alone;
  9. 41Though my proud heart no precept, now, can tame,
  10. 42I love the virtues which I cannot claim.
  1. 43'Tis not enough, with other sons of power,
  2. 44To gleam the lambent meteor of an hour;
  3. 45To swell some peerage page in feeble pride,
  4. 46With long-drawn names that grace no page beside;
  5. 47Then share with titled crowds the common lot--
  6. 48In life just gaz'd at, in the grave forgot;
  7. 49While nought divides thee from the vulgar dead,
  8. 50Except the dull cold stone that hides thy head,
  9. 51The mouldering 'scutcheon, or the Herald's roll,
  10. 52That well-emblazon'd but neglected scroll,
  11. 53Where Lords, unhonour'd, in the tomb may find
  12. 54One spot, to leave a worthless name behind.
  13. 55There sleep, unnotic'd as the gloomy vaults
  14. 56That veil their dust, their follies, and their faults,
  15. 57A race, with old armorial lists o'erspread,
  16. 58In records destin'd never to be read.
  17. 59Fain would I view thee, with prophetic eyes,
  18. 60Exalted more among the good and wise;
  19. 61A glorious and a long career pursue,
  20. 62As first in Rank, the first in Talent too:
  21. 63Spurn every vice, each little meanness shun;
  22. 64Not Fortune's minion, but her noblest son.
  23. 65Turn to the annals of a former day;
  24. 66Bright are the deeds thine earlier Sires display;
  25. 67One, though a courtier, lived a man of worth,
  26. 68And call'd, proud boast! the British drama forth.
  27. 69Another view! not less renown'd for Wit;
  28. 70Alike for courts, and camps, or senates fit;
  29. 71Bold in the field, and favour'd by the Nine;
  30. 72In every splendid part ordain'd to shine;
  31. 73Far, far distinguished from the glittering throng,
  32. 74The pride of Princes, and the boast of Song.
  33. 75Such were thy Fathers; thus preserve their name,
  34. 76Not heir to titles only, but to Fame.
  35. 77The hour draws nigh, a few brief days will close,
  36. 78To me, this little scene of joys and woes;
  37. 79Each knell of Time now warns me to resign
  38. 80Shades where Hope, Peace, and Friendship all were mine:
  39. 81Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue,
  40. 82And gild their pinions, as the moments flew;
  41. 83Peace, that reflection never frown'd away,
  42. 84By dreams of ill to cloud some future day;
  43. 85Friendship, whose truth let Childhood only tell;
  44. 86Alas! they love not long, who love so well.
  1. 87To these adieu! nor let me linger o'er
  2. 88Scenes hail'd, as exiles hail their native shore,
  3. 89Receding slowly, through the dark-blue deep,
  4. 90Beheld by eyes that mourn, yet cannot weep.
  1. 91Dorset, farewell! I will not ask one part
  2. 92Of sad remembrance in so young a heart;
  3. 93The coming morrow from thy youthful mind
  4. 94Will sweep my name, nor leave a trace behind.
  5. 95And, yet, perhaps, in some maturer year,
  6. 96Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere,
  7. 97Since the same senate, nay, the same debate,
  8. 98May one day claim our suffrage for the state,
  9. 99We hence may meet, and pass each other by
  10. 100With faint regard, or cold and distant eye.
  11. 101For me, in future, neither friend nor foe,
  12. 102A stranger to thyself, thy weal or woe--
  13. 103With thee no more again I hope to trace
  14. 104The recollection of our early race;
  15. 105No more, as once, in social hours rejoice,
  16. 106Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice;
  17. 107Still, if the wishes of a heart untaught
  18. 108To veil those feelings, which, perchance, it ought,
  19. 109If these,--but let me cease the lengthen'd strain,--
  20. 110Oh! if these wishes are not breath'd in vain,
  21. 111The Guardian Seraph who directs thy fate
  22. 112Will leave thee glorious, as he found thee great.