WRITTEN EXTEMPORE on the PICTURE of a FRIEND. I Within this narrow compass is confin'd, A form possess'd of every pleasing grace, The matchless beauties of whose heav'nly mind, Cou'd ne'er be painted in so small a space. II Let every praise so much the artist's due, With never-ceasing honors on him fall, Yet when this bright similitude I view, I mourn the loss of the original. III To fames exalted summit be thou rais'd, And move sublime in a distinguish'd sphere, Where wond'ring mortals shall behold amaz'd, Those lasting honors which the just revere. IV Above the malice of the artful mind, Above the envious, ignorant, and vain, Above the reach of slanderous mankind, Whose greatest pleasure is another's pain. V Thou chiefest wonder that adorns the age, Still, still, the paths of fame and truth pursue, Thy name shall celebrate some future page, Some yet unheard of muse shall sing of you.