Dorset! whose early steps with mine have stray'd, [ii] Exploring every path of Ida's glade; Whom, still, affection taught me to defend, And made me less a tyrant than a friend, Though the harsh custom of our youthful band Bade _thee_ obey, and gave _me_ to command; [2] Thee, on whose head a few short years will shower The gift of riches, and the pride of power; E'en now a name illustrious is thine own, Renown'd in rank, not far beneath the throne. 10 Yet, Dorset, let not this seduce thy soul [iii] To shun fair science, or evade controul; Though passive tutors, [3] fearful to dispraise The titled child, whose future breath may raise, View ducal errors with indulgent eyes, And wink at faults they tremble to chastise. When youthful parasites, who bend the knee To wealth, their golden idol, not to thee,-- And even in simple boyhood's opening dawn Some slaves are found to flatter and to fawn,-- 20 When these declare, "that pomp alone should wait On one by birth predestin'd to be great; That books were only meant for drudging fools, That gallant spirits scorn the common rules;" Believe them not,--they point the path to shame, And seek to blast the honours of thy name: Turn to the few in Ida's early throng, Whose souls disdain not to condemn the wrong; Or if, amidst the comrades of thy youth, None dare to raise the sterner voice of truth, 30 Ask thine own heart--'twill bid thee, boy, forbear! For _well_ I know that virtue lingers there. Yes! I have mark'd thee many a passing day, But now new scenes invite me far away; Yes! I have mark'd within that generous mind A soul, if well matur'd, to bless mankind; Ah! though myself, by nature haughty, wild, Whom Indiscretion hail'd her favourite child; Though every error stamps me for her own, And dooms my fall, I fain would fall alone; 40 Though my proud heart no precept, now, can tame, I love the virtues which I cannot claim.