Farewell, dear friend!—in vain I try
To think of thee without a sigh!
If in life’s long and active round
Thy equal I so rarely found,
How, in my few remaining days,
While nature rapidly decays,
Can hope persuade, in flattering strain,
Thy niche will e’er be fill’d again?
Thy loss is not to art alone,
Which placed thee on Apelles’ throne;