To my worthy Friend Thomas Southern, Esq.

Say, Southern , ever form'd to please,
Since Time its Traces shows,
And yet such Grace, such sprightly Ease
In all thy Converse flows;

Say, does not still that Warmth remain
Of thy rich fertile Mind,
Which so inspir'd thy Tragic Strain
To move and charm Mankind?

'Tis still, tho' not so fiercely bright,
The self-same glorious Ray;
And sheds a calmer sweeter Light
In thy declining Day.

Hence the Polite and Learn'd to Thee
Perpetual Trophies raise;
In thy just Praises all agree
Themselves who merit Praise.

Honour'd and lov'd through ev'ry Stage
Thy happy Talents shine,
And still, of each successive Age,
The ORRERT is Thine.
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