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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455470" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Letter Written For My Son To A Young Gentleman</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dear Jack, whilst you thro' Flanders roam,<br>Can you forget your Friends at Home?<br>Say, will your Tutors give you Time<br>To write to Hereticks in Rhyme?<br>A Name they brand us with, dear Youth,<br>And we affirm they injure Truth.<br>The sacred Page before us lies,<br>Which you lock up from vulgar Eyes.<br>In vain to Men a Light is giv'n,<br>To point them out the Path to Heav'n;<br>If, lest their Sight should make them stray,<br>Their Guides alone must see the Way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I fancy now you answer thus:<br>Lord! what's Divinity to us?<br>This serious Subject is unfit.<br>To exercise a School--boy's Wit;<br>Then talk of other Matters, Con.<br>Inform me how your Class goes on:<br>Are you, poor Boys! at School To--day,<br>Whilst others are allow'd to play?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dear Jack, that is our Case, 'tls true;<br>We envy them, and envy you;<br>You, who may ramble from your Book,<br>To view the Towns Eugenio took;<br>Ev'n now, perhaps, attend the Story,<br>How Marlbro' won immortal Glory;<br>page <br>Whilst he, who tells the wondrous Tale,<br>At ev'ry Period turning pale,<br>Still fancies Vengeance o'er his Head,<br>And asks you--Are you sure He's dead?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">P.S.<br>I just heard happy News, dear Boy;<br>And Friendship bids me share the Joy:<br>Hibernia has not pray'd in vain;<br>Cyrus will visit her again;<br>Cyrus, long train'd in Wisdom's School,<br>And by Mandana form'd for Rule.<br>Ramsay, we find from whence you drew<br>Those Characters admir'd in you:<br>We Cassendana's Virtues trace,<br>And lovely Form in Weymouth's Race.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O would Mandana cross the Seas,<br>And hear a People speak her Praise,<br>With Britain vie to hail the Dame,<br>Who, Granville, could exalt thy Name,<br>Transmitting down thy Fame with Care,<br>And double Lustre, in her Heir!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455470" data-title="A Letter Written For My Son To A Young Gentleman de Mary Barber" data-description="Dear Jack, whilst you thro' Flanders roam,
Can you forget your Friends at Home?
Say, will your Tutors give you Time
To write to Hereticks in Rhyme?
A Name they brand us with, dear Youth,
And we affirm they injure Truth.
The sacred Page before us l..."></div>
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