TO D[OROTHY] A[SBURY]
Acrostic
Divided praise, Lady, to you we owe,
Of all the health your husband doth bestow,
Respected wife of skilful Asbury!
Oracular foresight named thee Dorothy;
Tis a Greek word, and signifies God's Gift;
(How Learning helps poor Poets at a shift!)—
You are that gift. When, tired with human ails,
And tedious listening to the sick man's tales,
Sore spent, and fretted, he comes home at eve,
By mild medicaments you his toils deceive.
Under your soothing treatment he revives;
(Restorative is the smile of gentle wives):
You lengthen his, who lengthens all our lives.
TO LOUISA MORGAN
How blest is he who in his age, exempt
From fortune's frowns, and from the troublous strife
Of storms that harass still the private life,
"Below ambition, and above contempt,"
Hath gain'd a quiet harbour, where he may
Look back on shipwrecks past, without a sigh
For busier scenes, and hope's gay dreams gone by!
And such a nook of blessedness, they say,
Your Sire at length has found; while you, best Child,
Content in his contentment, acquiesce
In patient toils; and in a station less,
Than you might image, when your prospects smiled.
In your meek virtues there is found a calm,
That on his life's soft evening sheds a balm.
TO SARAH JAMES OF BEGUILDY
Acrostic
Sleep hath treasures worth retracing:
Are you not in slumbers pacing
Round your native spot at times,
And seem to hear Beguildy's chimes?
Hold the airy vision fast;
Joy is but a dream at last:
And what was so fugitive,
Memory only makes to live.
Even from troubles past we borrow
Some thoughts that may lighten sorrow,
Onwards as we pace through life,
Fainting under care or strife,