SONNET TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, ESQ. 1792. THY Country, Wilberforce, with just disdain, Thou hast achieved a part; hast gain'd the ear Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love SONNET TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ. On his Emphatical and Interesting Delivery of the Defence of Warren Hastings, Esq. in the House of Lords. COWPER, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard, Legends prolix delivers in the ears (Attentive when thou read'st) of England's peers, Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward. Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard, Thy generous powers, but silence honour'd thee, Mute as e'er gazed on orator or bard. 'Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside Both heart and head: and couldst with music sweet Of attic phrase and senatorial tone, Like thy renown'd forefathers, far and wide SONNET TO JOHN JOHNSON. On his Presenting me with an Antique Bust of Homer. 1793. KINSMAN beloved, and as a son, by me! Joy too and grief. Much joy that there should be I lose my precious years now soon to fail, Proves dross, when balanced in the Christian scale. Be wiser thou-like our forefather DONNE, Seek heavenly wealth, and work for God alone. SONNET TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. 1793. DEAR architect of fine CHATEAUX in air, O for permission from the skies to share, Much to my own, though little to thy good, But I am bankrupt now; and doom'd henceforth That he has furnish'd lights for other eyes, SONNET TO DR. AUSTIN. 1792. AUSTIN! accept a grateful verse from me, 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, Friend of my friend!* I love thee, though unknown, And boldly call thee, being his, my own. SONNET TO GEORGE ROMNEY, ESQ. On his Picture of me in Crayons, drawn at Eartham, in the Sixty-first Year of my Age, in the Months of August and September. 1792. ROMNEY, expert infallibly to trace On chart or canvass, not the form alone With strokes that time ought never to erase * Hayley. But this I mark-that symptoms none of woe Since, on maturer thought, the cause is clear; For in my looks what sorrow couldst thou see SONNET TO MRS. UNWIN. 1793. MARY! I want a lyre with other strings, [drew, Such aid from Heaven as some have feign'd they An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new But thou hast little need. There is a book By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light, There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine; |