то THE RIGHT HON. JAMES CRAGGS, Esq. HIS MAJESTY's PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE. i I DEAR SIR, CANNOT wish that any of my writings fhould last longer than the memory of our friendship and, therefore, I thus publicly bequeath them to you, in return for the many valuable inftances of your affection. That they may come to you with as little difadvantage as poffible, I have left the care of them to one*, whom, by the experience of fome years, I know well qualified to answer my intentions. He has already the honour and happinefs of being under your protection; and, as he will very much ftand in need of it, I cannot with him better, than that he may continue to deferve the favour and countenance of fuch a patron. I have no time to lay out in forming such compliments, as would but ill fuit that familiarity between us, which was once my greatest pleasure, and will be my greatest honour hereafter. Instead of them, accept of my hearty wishes, that the great reputation you have acquired fo early, may increase more and more: and that you may long ferve your country with thofe excellent talents, B 2 *Mr. Tickell. and and unblemished integrity, which have so powerfully recommended you to the most gracious and amiable Monarch that ever filled a throne. May the franknefs and generosity of your spirit continue to soften and fubdue your enemies, and gain you many friends, if poffible, as fincere as yourself. When you have found fuch, they cannot wish you more true happiness than I, who am, with the greatest zeal, Dear SIR, Your most entirely affectionate friend, and faithful obedient fervant, June 4, 1719, J. ADDISON POE BY M S MR. ADDISON. TO MR. DRY DE N. OW long, great Poet, fhall thy facred lays Provoke our wonder, and transcend our praise ? Can neither injuries of time, or age, Damp thy poetic heat, and quench thy rage? Not fo thy Ovid in his exile wrote, Grief chill'd his breaft, and check'd his rifing thought: Prevailing warmth has ftill thy mind pofleft, Now Ovid boafts th' advantage of thy song, Thy charming verse, and fair translations, show How wild Lycaon, chang'd by angry gods, And frighted at himself, ran howling through the woods. Have liv'd a fecond life, and different natures try'd. Magd. College, Oxon. June 2, 1693. The Author's age 22. A POEM A PO H IS POE то M MAJE ST Y *. PRESENTED TO THE LORD KEEPER. то THE RIGHT HON. SIR JOHN SOMERS. LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL, 1695. IF yet your thoughts are loose from state affairs, Nor feel the burden of a kingdom's cares; Το |