since life's gay scenes must charm no more,

still much is left behind,

still nobler wealth hast thou in store—

the comforts of the mind!

thine is the self-approving glow,

of conscious honour's part;

and (dearest gift of heaven below)

thine friendship's truest heart.

the joys refin'd of sense and taste,

with every muse to rove:

and doubly were the poet blest,

these joys could he improve.

r.b.