Tixall Poetry/To My Honord Cosen, Mr Henry Somerset, on New Year's Day
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To My Honord Cosen,
Mr Henry Somerset,
on New Year's Day.
Since you and I in easy verse delight,
Where study banisht, nature seemes to write,
I boldly took my pen just now, to say,
What into verse would fall the smoothest way,
And hardly thought of what I was about,
Before the following wish to you dropt out.
May you have all the happiness this yeare
Can give: but then I stop'd with sudden feare,
This should not with your nobler choice agree,
Who firmely seeme resolv'd, it can not be;
Since a deare memory exacts each day,
A grief, that must all its delights outwaigh:
Let me correct my wish, your griefs forbeare;
Your numerous joys I might have added here.
Yet may you have your all sum'd up in one,
And find the highest is to covet none.
Where study banisht, nature seemes to write,
I boldly took my pen just now, to say,
What into verse would fall the smoothest way,
And hardly thought of what I was about,
Before the following wish to you dropt out.
May you have all the happiness this yeare
Can give: but then I stop'd with sudden feare,
This should not with your nobler choice agree,
Who firmely seeme resolv'd, it can not be;
Since a deare memory exacts each day,
A grief, that must all its delights outwaigh:
Let me correct my wish, your griefs forbeare;
Your numerous joys I might have added here.
Yet may you have your all sum'd up in one,
And find the highest is to covet none.