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Or with my Father's spirit taste the charm
Of all philanthropy and virtue give;
Mild judgment, genius bright, and feeling warm,
As in Iris works they shall for ever live:
Or, in thy page, my Henry! see what youth,
Adorned with noblest virtues, may achieve;
Arresting Science at the bar of Truth,
Labours which death's cold hand may not bereave.
O! ever foremost in thy country's page,
Thy toils, my brother! shall prolong thy name,
A bright example to a thoughtless age
Of tender years, yet ripened in thy fame.
Yes, sweet the lonely hours I consecrate,
My loved companions! to your influence blest;
The joys ye bring me are secure from fate,
The glad forerunners of eternal rest!
Of all philanthropy and virtue give;
Mild judgment, genius bright, and feeling warm,
As in Iris works they shall for ever live:
Or, in thy page, my Henry! see what youth,
Adorned with noblest virtues, may achieve;
Arresting Science at the bar of Truth,
Labours which death's cold hand may not bereave.
O! ever foremost in thy country's page,
Thy toils, my brother! shall prolong thy name,
A bright example to a thoughtless age
Of tender years, yet ripened in thy fame.
Yes, sweet the lonely hours I consecrate,
My loved companions! to your influence blest;
The joys ye bring me are secure from fate,
The glad forerunners of eternal rest!
