Austin, accept a grateful verse from me,
The poet's treasure, no inglorious fee.
Loved by the Muses, thy ingenuous mind
Pleasing requital in my verse may find;
Verse oft has dashed the scythe of Time aside,
Immortalising names which else had died.
And oh, could I command the glittering wealth
With which sick kings are glad to purchase health;
Yet, if extensive fame, and sure to live,
Were in the power of verse like mine to give,
I would not recompense his art with less,
Who, giving Mary health, heals my distress.
Friend of my friend! I love thee, though unknown,
And boldly call thee, being his, my own.
More verses by William Cowper
- To John Johnson, On His Presenting Me With An Antique Bust Of Homer
- To Miss C-----, On Her Birthday
- To Mr. John Rouse, Librarian Of The University Of Oxford. (Translated From Milton)
- To Giovanni Salzilli, A Roman Poet, In His Illness. Scazons (Translated From Milton)
- To Mrs. Newton