1749 ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION

Rev. Moses Browne

Edward Cave, "To Moses Browne" October 1749; Gentleman's Magazine 64 (April 1794) 503.



March 20 [1794].
MR. URBAN,
Reading, in p. 41, a jeu d'esprit of the worthy Mr. Cave, I recollected his intimacy with the Reverend Moses Browne (late chaplain of Morden College, Blackheath), and that I had a copy by me (taken by his permission from the originals) of two little pieces which passed between them; I think the date (as near as I can remember) was in October, 1749. If you think it worth insertion, you are welcome to it, as I venerate both their memories.
Yours, &c.
W. A. WILLIS M.D.

TO MR. MOSES BROWNE.
Good Moses, say, what will you have
Brought to your house by Master Cave?
I know you love the food that's staunch;
I'll send a fine fresh venison haunch:
Suppose I add another dish,
And send your wife some fine fresh fish?
Moses, I know she likes fish well;
Last night she did the secret tell,
When, after angling all the day,
I drank your ale, and whiff'd away:
The wine's already on the road,
I trust its flavour will prove good;
A cordial 'tis to drooping merit,
I hope it will revive your spirit:
Good wine fresh courage may inspire,
Now string your long-forgotten lyre.
Tho' anxious cares disturb your breast,
Some future hour may bring you rest;
Shake balmy odours from his wings,
To heal misfortunes, cruel things;
Fix you in some pure calm retreat,
Where you'll a happy exit meet;
And, favour'd with a tranquil breast,
Serenely sink to endless rest;
This is the end I hope you'll have,
So prays sincere yours, EDWARD CAVE.

MR. BROWNE'S ANSWER.
Good Master Cave, my generous friend,
Where will your chain of favours end?
My honest heart cannot conceal
Th' unbounded gratitude I feel.
'Tis true, dark cares corrode my breast,
A stranger long to balmy rest;
How soon Heaven may reverse the scene;
How many hours may intervene,
Before such pleasing prospects rise;
I leave to Him who is all-wise,
Who, sitting at the helm above,
Works all things for our good — through love.
His awful will my soul obeys,
And trusts to Him for clearer days.
Unclouded may my exit be,
Such be the end to thee and me!
May this our mutual labours crown!
So prays your grateful MOSES BROWNE.