Richard Savage

John Dyer, "To Richard Savage, Esq." London Magazine 5 (November 1736) 638.

Sink not, my friend, beneath misfortune's weight,
Pleas'd to be found intrinsically great!
Shame on the dull, who think the soul looks less,
Because the body wants a glitt'ring dress.
It is the mind's for-ever bright attire,
The mind's embroid'ry that the wise admire.
That, which looks rich to the gross vulgar eyes,
Is the fops tinsel which the grave despise.
Wealth dims the eyes of crowds, and, while they gaze,
The coxcomb's ne'er discover'd in the blaze.
As few the vices of the wealthy see,
So virtues are conceal'd by poverty.

Earl RIVERS! in that name how wou'dst thou shine!
Thy verse how sweet, thy fancy how divine!
Criticks and bards wou'd by thy worth be aw'd,
And all wou'd think it merit to applaud.
But thou hast nought to please the vulgar eye,
No title hast, nor what might titles buy;
Thou wilt small praise, but much ill nature find,
Clear to thy errors, to thy beauties blind.
And if, tho' few, they any fault can see,
How meanly bitter will cold censure be?
But since we all, the wisest of us, err,
Sure 'tis the greatest fault to be severe.

A few, however yet expect to find
Among the misty millions of mankind,
Who proudly stoop to aid an injur'd cause,
And o'er the sneer of coxcombs, force applause:
Who with felt pleasure, see fair virtue rise,
And lift her upward to the beck'ning prize:
Or mark her lab'ring in the modest breast,
And honour her the more, the more deprest.

Thee, Savage, these (the justly great) admire,
Thee, quick'ning judgements phlegm with fancy'd fire,
Thee, slow to censure, earnest to commend,
An able critick, but a willing friend.