since life's gay scenes must charm no more,
still much is left behind,
still nobler wealth hast thou in store—
theforts of the mind!
thine is the self-approving glow,
of conscious honour's part;
and (dearest gift of heaven below)
thine friendship's truest heart.
the joys refin'd of sense and taste,
with every muse to rove:
and doubly were the poet blest,
these joys could he improve.
r.b.