TRIBUTE TO DR. BARCLAY 75 



xv 



He saw my follies, and reprov'd them oft : 

 Not in the galling tone of sullen speech, 



But as a friend, in accents firm though soft, 

 Moulded alike to cherish and to teach, 

 Seeming than order rather to beseech. 



My guide in Learning's arduous path, he cheer'd 

 My drooping spirits ; then, as I would reach 



Each little stage, and still a new appear'd, 

 Though hard the task, 'twas by his care and love 

 endear'd. 



XVI 



The magic world which I had fondly made, 

 Each fancy-hammer'd link of that frail chain 



Which comprehended all, living and dead, 

 Spiritual and of matter, of the brain 

 The misty mould, incongruous and vain, 



He knew and smil'd : he smil'd perchance to see 

 How the fantastic wreath the luckless swain 



With patient labour fram'd and cheering glee, 

 Which ne'er with sober Reason's precepts might agree. 



XVII 



But his, though 'twas the smile of irony, 

 Had nought of malice : universal love 

 And mild benevolence beam'd from his eye ; 



