Superior poetess, I smile That you should portion me the toil, Which the first pow'rs of mind would bend, To paint, what YOU could paint, the friend. Who is the friend you bid me shew, And partial say, I surely know, And only need describe my heart The purpos'd picture to impart.... The things beheld which copying draws, Thank Heav'n, for fiction I've no cause, But may by sight and mem'ry trace All Friendship's lines of strength and grace, In all her forms her beauties view, And shew them, were my drawing true, For I could shew them all in YOU.
