AN
EPISTLE
TO
MISS
ISABELLA
GRAHAM
OF
GARTMORE
.
AT
earliest
dawn
brisk
Archy
rose
,
And
tightly
garter'd
on
his
hose
;
He
in
his
bosom
plac'd
a
sprig
,
And
put
on
his
best
philibeg
,
Mounted
his
sheltie
—
then
demands
,
"
Gif
Lady
Susan
had
commands
,
To
Gartmore
,
Madam
,
I
am
going
"
—
Respectfully
the
while
kept
bowing
;
—
"
A
letter
,
if
you'll
please
to
give
it
,
The
morn
Miss
Tibby
shall
receive
it
;
"
I
thank
you
,
Archy
;
—
yes
,
I'll
send
A
letter
to
my
dearest
friend
.
Just
then
Remembrance
seem'd
to
say
,
"
Why
,
sure
,
you
wrote
but
yesterday
!
And
,
scribbling
every
day
such
nonsense
,
In
truth
you
have
but
little
conscience
;
Your
scrolls
are
all
so
hard
to
read
,
They're
each
an
Athanasian
creed
,
Which
not
a
mortal
understands
,
So
quick
the
line
forms
in
your
hands
;
And
every
thought
,
as
you
conceive
it
,
Though
immature
,
you
being
give
it
;
Still
,
still
to
Wisdom's
full-grown
thought
Your
small
ideas
seem
a
mote
,
Therefore
on
paper
no
more
note
them
.
"
But
May
and
Tibby
will
out
blot
them
!
Exclaim'd
my
heart
in
great
emotion
,
Stung
to
the
quick
at
Wisdom's
caution
;
'Tis
true
my
heart
knows
no
restraint
,
I
laugh
,
or
sing
,
or
make
complaint
;
Just
as
the
heart
compounds
the
dye
The
colour
flushes
to
the
eye
,
And
while
to
Friendship's
ken
display'd
,
Be
ever
seen
its
light
and
shade
.
'Tis
Friendship
holds
the
faithful
glass
Which
lets
no
faults
unnotic'd
pass
,
But
places
them
in
such
a
light
As
soften'd
meet
the
conscious
sight
;
Amendment
soon
smooths
every
feature
,
And
shows
a
less
imperfect
creature
;
And
Friendship's
kind
observance
shows
Dark
Error's
tints
or
Virtue's
glows
.
Happy
the
few
who
find
the
Friend
Whose
candour
strives
each
fault
to
mend
;
Who
deals
reproof
with
lenient
care
,
Touches
each
fault
,
yet
strives
to
spare
;
For
e'en
the
honest
feeling
heart
With
softest
chastisement
will
smart
,
—
By
conscious
defalcation
stung
,
And
pain'd
the
most
t'
have
acted
wrong
;
Then
be
it
Friendship's
constant
part
To
mend
but
not
afflict
the
heart
.
Thus
,
with
myself
in
mental
confab
,
And
having
own'd
my
pen
a
sad
blab
,
—
Vex'd
e'en
that
Caution
should
distrust
Those
friends
I
love
,
those
friends
so
just
,
Those
steadfast
hearts
I
dare
confide
in
,
And
hope
for
ever
to
reside
in
,
I
drove
cold
Prudence
from
my
ear
,
Her
whisper'd
doubts
refus'd
to
hear
,
Promis'd
to
list
some
other
day
,
My
letter
seal'd
,
and
sent
away
.