A commendatory poem in six couplet Spenserians signed "Anthony Pasquin, Esq." John Williams, better known as a satirist, addresses the poet in the fashionable Della Cruscan mode: "When judgment bade you sanctify the page, | To brace the morals of a sullied age; | Your vivid sense imbib'd the sacred fire, | And heav'nly harmony array'd your lyre." Anne Fuller was the author of The Son of Ethelwolf: an Historical Tale (1789).
Refulgent nymph, by every Grace carest,
By Truth uplifted and lay Faith imprest;
Mature the toil you nobly have began,
And chain the properties of savage man;
Phoebus shall regulate your dulcet lays,
And bind your virgin temples with his deathless bays.
When judgment bade you sanctify the page,
To brace the morals of a sullied age;
Your vivid sense imbib'd the sacred fire,
And heav'nly harmony array'd your lyre;
The Muses led you to their silver spring,
And blanch'd your florid fancy ere you aim'd to sing.
Had I omnipotence within my pow'r,
I'd sheathe with poignant bliss each hast'ning hour,
Then gaunt calamity should ne'er controul,
The energetick movements of your soul,
Nor Winter's icy dart nor Summer's flame,
Abridge the fascination of your peerless frame.
When youth shall fabricate the fraudful vow,
When Care shall menace with his iron brow;
When Nature's ills thy quiet shall assail,
May all the arrows of their mission fail,
To wound your attributes, for good design'd,
Or drive the winged halcyon from your placid mind.
May all your steps elude the haunts of strife,
May Peace direct you down the streams of life;
Never shall Obloquy your mansion seek,
Or Anguish blight the roses on your cheek;
Nor vagrant Zephyr insolent mispread,
The hazel, curling tresses of thy envied head.
May generous Sympathy each woe destroy,
And bear you trembling to the heights of joy;
Quicken the burthen of each life-fraught vein,
But stop the impulse ere it reaches pain;
While Honour consecrates thy spotless name,
And breathes your ample merits in the ear of Fame.