To The Rev. W. Cawthorne Unwin.

Unwin, I should but ill repay     The kindness of a friend,     Whose worth deserves as warm a lay     As ever friendship pennd,     Thy name omitted in a page     That would reclaim a vicious age.     A union formd, as mine with thee,     Not rashly, or in sport,     May be as fervent in degree     And faithful in its sort,     And may as rich in comfort prove,     As that of true fraternal love.     The bud inserted in the rind,     The bud of peach or rose,     Adorns, though differing in its kind,     The stock whereon it grows,     With flower as sweet, or fruit as fair,     As if produced by nature there.     Not rich, I render what I may,     I seize thy name in haste,     And place it in this first essay,     Lest this should prove the last.     Tis where it should bein a plan     That hold sin view the good of man.     The poets lyre, to fix his fame,     Should be the poets heart;     Affection lights a brighter flame     Than ever blazed by art.     No muses on these lines attend,     I sink the poet in the friend.