All--that could charm and grieve a feeling mind,
Shar'd with me, in my cell, some pensive hours;
Herself most eloquent on Cowper's powers,
Urg'd to his willing Eulogist his claim
To public gratitude, and purest fame.
The memoir, as by gradual toil it grows,
Endears the tranquil scene, in which it rose;
And sheds, since public favor blest the page,
A soothing lustre on my letter'd age.
The dues of faithful memory fondly paid
To him, devotion's bard! dear sacred shade!
Then my paternal hand was prompt to raise
To that blest pupil, who had shar'd his praise
A similar record of tender truth;
The genuine portraiture of studious youth--
Task of such pleasing pain, as pierc'd the heart
Of Daedalus, the sire of antient art!
When, in fond zeal, his busy hand begun
To mould the story of his hapless son,
But falter'd, while, o'erwhelm'd in mournful thought,
He work'd, and wept upon the work, he wrought.
Ah peerless youth! whose highly-gifted hand
Could all varieties of skill command,
Ere illness undermin'd thy powers to use
The Sculptor's chizzel, and the Painter's hues!
Had thy ascending talents, unenchain'd,
Of studious life the promis'd zenith gain'd,
Confederate arts would then have joy'd to see
Their English Michael Angelo in thee.
But never be it by true love forgot,