To John Johnson
On his Presenting me with an Antique Bust of Homer
Kinsman belov'd, and as a son, by me!
When I behold this fruit of thy regard,
The sculptur'd form of my old fav'rite bard,
I rev'rence feel for him, and love for thee.
Joy too and grief! much joy, that there should be
Wise men, and learn'd, who grudge not to reward
With some applause my bold attempt, and hard,
Which others scorn: critics by courtesy!
The grief is this, that sunk in Homer's mine
I lose my precious years, now soon to fail,
Handling his gold, which, howsoe'er it shine,
Proves dross, when balanc'd in the Christian scale.
Be wiser thou — like our fore-father D ONNE ,
Seek heav'nly wealth, and work for God alone.
Kinsman belov'd, and as a son, by me!
When I behold this fruit of thy regard,
The sculptur'd form of my old fav'rite bard,
I rev'rence feel for him, and love for thee.
Joy too and grief! much joy, that there should be
Wise men, and learn'd, who grudge not to reward
With some applause my bold attempt, and hard,
Which others scorn: critics by courtesy!
The grief is this, that sunk in Homer's mine
I lose my precious years, now soon to fail,
Handling his gold, which, howsoe'er it shine,
Proves dross, when balanc'd in the Christian scale.
Be wiser thou — like our fore-father D ONNE ,
Seek heav'nly wealth, and work for God alone.
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