An Epistle to a Friend in Town

[These beautiful stanzas, addressed to Mr. Lewis, 1729, are generally printed as " An Epistle to a Friend in Town, " and have been connected with Savage's Poem to Dyer, in answer to his " From the Country, " under 1729. In the poet's MSS., is a stanza which was to have followed the fourth:
And fades not the feature, and dims not the sight,
And sits not disease on her treasures?
And thunders not conscience, and frowns not grim night?
Ah! where are her visional pleasures?]

Have my friends in the Town, the busy, gay Town,
Forgot such a man as John Dyer?
Or heedless despise they, or pity the clown,
Whose bosom no pageantries fire?

No matter, no matter, content in the shades —
Contented! why everything charms me —
Fall in tune all adown the green steep, ye cascades!
Till hence rigid Virtue alarms me.

Till Outrage arises, or Misery needs
The swift, the intrepid avenger:
Till sacred Religion, or Liberty bleeds —
Then mine be the deed, or the danger.

Alas! what a folly, that wealth and domain
We heap up in sin and in sorrow!
Immense is the toil, yet the labour how vain!
Is not life to be over to-morrow?

Then glide on my moments, the few that I have,
Sweet-shaded, and quiet, and even,
While gently the body descends to the grave,
And the spirit arises to heaven.