"Gen'rous bosoms, more than gems of gold, / Rich funds of morals, knowledge, sense, unfold; / Transmitting each, to each, the rising store, / For wisdom's plants, while cropping, flourish more, A magic circle! whose enchanted round, / Admits no fiend to tread the hallow'd ground."
— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
You lose no time, the wise have none to spare.
In chariot borne you speed the friendly tour,
Or friendly rapps assault your sounding door.
Or, steep'd in study, time unnotic'd flies;
Or friendship clips his wings with social joys.
What higher bliss can human life afford,
Than friendly converse round the festive board?
As gloomy ghost or spectre slinks away,
When mild Aurora's cheeks are flush'd with day,
So anxious care and melancholy flee,
Before the dawning rays of social glee;
The tranquil bosom feels its peace refin'd,
The strings of life in unison are join'd;
Sweet friendship in the heart confirms her throne,
Joy stamps each meaning feature for her own.
When, smit with love of virtue, you resort,
Where clad in beauty's charms she keeps her court;
Where plenty crowns the board with pleasing wealth,
And gen'rous bounty weds with sprightly health;
For plenty's handmaid, elegance, attends,
And watchful temp'rance guards the health of friends.
No mawkish adulation palls the taste,
Nor pickl'd Satyr sours the rich repast;
In streams of eloquence the periods glide,
While taste and virtue over speech preside:
Where sense and learning in conjunction sit,
And strong discretion bridles restive wit,
Where neither modest maid, or matron meek,
With words confront that stain the bashful cheek;
Nor holy zeal, nor contrite conscience, fear,
Licentious speech to shock the tender ear:
But gen'rous bosoms, more than gems of gold,
Rich funds of morals, knowledge, sense, unfold;
Transmitting each, to each, the rising store,
For wisdom's plants, while cropping, flourish more,
A magic circle! whose enchanted round,
Admits no fiend to tread the hallow'd ground;
In judgment's sunshine fancy's flow'rets bloom,
And innocence exalts their fresh perfume:
No weeds of envy choke the fertile soil,
In sleek dissimulation's fost'ring smile;
But virtuous reputation's blossom there,
Nor blights of scandal, or, detraction fear.
Poems on Several Occasions. By James Woodhouse, Journeyman Shoemaker, 2nd edition (London: Printed for the author, and sold by Dodsley, 1766). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO><Link to Hathi Trust><Link to Google Books>
Note, some poems in this edition first collected in 1764 in Poems on Sundry Occasions. Note, also, the collection published in 1788 with title Poems on Several Occasions does not contain the same poems. Cf. ESTC and Brit. Mus. Catalogue.
Text from The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse, ed. R. I. Woodhouse, 2 vols. (London: The Leadenhall Press, 1896). <Link to Hathi Trust> <Link to LION>