Tixall Poetry.
227
To My Honord Cosen,
Mr Henry Somerset,
on New Year's Day.
Since you and I in easy verse delight,
Where study banisht, nature seemes to write,
I boldly took my pen just now, to say,
What into verse would fall the smoothest way,
And hardly thought of what I was about,
Before the following wish to you dropt out.
May you have all the happiness this yeare
Can give: but then I stop'd with sudden feare,
This should not with your nobler choice agree,
Who firmely seeme resolv'd, it can not be;
Since a deare memory exacts each day,
A grief, that must all its delights outwaigh:
Where study banisht, nature seemes to write,
I boldly took my pen just now, to say,
What into verse would fall the smoothest way,
And hardly thought of what I was about,
Before the following wish to you dropt out.
May you have all the happiness this yeare
Can give: but then I stop'd with sudden feare,
This should not with your nobler choice agree,
Who firmely seeme resolv'd, it can not be;
Since a deare memory exacts each day,
A grief, that must all its delights outwaigh:
