Classic Poem

Friend of my infant age, unrival'd friend,
How shall I pay a tribute nobly due!
How the fair Muse's loftiest mount ascend,
To cull a wreath not all unworthy You !
Led by no fond caprice, no selfish view,
You feiz'd me trembling on Destruction's steep,
Bade my weak ken the flight of fame pursue,
Yet still in fight fair H ONOR'S temple keep.
When Fashion's eye was clos'd in leaden sleep,
Or op'd with kindling anger on my page,
Then did you bid the orphan cease to weep,
Then veil'd the minstrel from their lunar rage.
And may soul Party and her fiends engage
My helpless innocence, in discord dread,
Without one B ERWICK , potent to assuage
Her fell intent — may Malice mark my head,
When founds the wire, unconscious of his name,
Who saves a P OET earns a P OET 's fame!