110 THE POEMS OF ANNE �TO A FRIEND �In Praise of the Invention of Writing Letters �Blest be the Man! his Memory at least, �Who found the Art, thus to unfold his Breast, �And taught succeeding Times an easy way �Their secret Thoughts by Letters to convey ; �To baffle Absence, and secure Delight, �Which, till that Time, was limited to Sight. �The parting Farewel spoke, the last Adieu, �The less'ning Distance past, then loss of View, �The Friend was gone, which some kind Moments gave, �And Absence separated, like the Grave. 10 �The Wings of Love were tender too, till then �No Quill, thence pull'd, was shap'd into a Pen, �To send in Paper-sheets, from Town to Town, �Words smooth as they, and softer than his Down. �O'er such he reign'd, whom Neighbourhood had join'd, �And hopt, from Bough to Bough, supported by the Wind. �When for a Wife the youthful Patriarch sent, �The Camels, Jewels, and the Steward went, �A wealthy Equipage, tho' grave and slow; �But not a Line, that might the Lover shew. 20 �The Rings and Bracelets woo'd her Hands and Arms ; �But had she known of melting Words, the Charms �That under secret Seals in Ambush lie, �To catch the Soul, when drawn into the Eye, �The Fair Assyrian had not took this Guide, �Nor her soft Heart in Chains of Pearl been ty'd. �Had these Conveyances been then in Date, Joseph had known his wretched Father's State, Before a Famine, which his Life pursues, Had sent his other Sons, to tell the News. 30 ��� �
