If to be praised by those who merit praise
Gives honour, as some sapient sages deemed;
If by the bland in heart to be esteemed
Gives comfort, and the drooping thought can raise;
If, where the dignity of elder days
And high nobility of souls have beamed
An inborn radiance, sympathy hath gleamed
With kindred warmth, and shot some roseate rays,
And with benignant tenderness hath cheered
My lonesome hours, whom widowed anguish led
Through sorrow's sablest gloom; how much endeared
Is Brydges! by each muse and grace bestead;
For he, my lettered friend, my social pride,
Hath honour, comfort, solace, joy supplied.