To Dr. Austen,
OF CECIL STREET, LONDON.
Austen! accept a grateful verse from me!
The poet's treasure! no inglorious fee!
Loved by the Muses, thy ingenuous mind
Pleasing requital in a verse may find;
Verse oft has dash'd the scythe of Time aside,
Immortalizing names, which else had died:
And, oh! could I command the glittering wealth
With which sick kings are glad to purchase health:
Yet, if extensive fame, and sure to live,
Were in the power of verse like mine to give,—
I would not recompense his art with less,
Who, giving Mary health, heals my distress.
Friend of my friend! I love thee, though unknown,
And boldly call thee, being his, my own.