Classic Poem

Proud of thy praise, in former time, I sung,
And now, renew the tributary strain;
Haply, my harp to loftier measures strung,
The soft submission of thine ear may gain.
Thy hand, even first, with amiable grace,
Gave to my infant grasp the envy'd bay,
Thine eye, first saw, rude Merit's slender trace,
And Genius glimmer o'er my simple lay:
Thou saw'st and smil'd! — approvingly sincere,
Thy partial sentence warm'd my kindling breast,
And oft has Memory , disturb'd, distrest,
Wept on thy goodness with a silent tear!