THE TRIBUTE;

A
Panegyrical Poem
DEDICATED
TO THE HONORABLE
THE LADY ANN COKE,
OF
HOLKHAM HALL.

BY PHILO.

“So be it mine to touch the sounding string,
The Friend, the Patriot, and the Man to sing,
And though unused to raise the tuneful song,
The mighty theme shall make my numbers strong;
Bright truth shall guide me like the solar rays,
Illume my darkness and direct my praise!
Inspire each thought and breathe in ev’ry line,
And grace my Eulogy with rays divine;
And, while I paint the scene, the fact recite,
Still burst upon me in a blaze of light.”

Page 2.

NORWICH:
PRINTED BY W. UPCROFT, ST. CLEMENT’S.

DEDICATION,
TO THE HONORABLE
The Lady Ann Coke.

Praise—when it is fairly earned and justly due, is that meed which virtue delights to bestow upon merit; and, as it is highly gratifying to every worthy mind to receive, so next to those who merit it, it is to none more delightful than to those who are allied to, and love and regard the object of the Eulogy.  Most grateful then must it be to the feelings of a beloved wife, to hear and even read of the honorable and praise-worthy actions of a kind and tender husband.  It is indeed like the oil of gladness to the heart, which, while it softens and lubricates, rejoices and refines: while it is read it delights—inspires a desire to imitate—infuses a portion of the spirit it celebrates into the bosom of rectitude—and cherishes the noble incentive to “go and do likewise.”  Under this impression it is, that the Author has presumed to dedicate to your Ladyship, this humble tribute of his respect and esteem.  If he must not be allowed to rank it with the brighter effusions of imagination; yet, being founded in truth, it is intrinsically superior to the flights of fancy, and he trusts when you consider the justness of the panegyric, and the sincerity which inspires it; you will look over the imperfection of the Performance, in regard to the goodness of the intention; and readily pardon the writers defects of genius in justice to the warmth of his feelings.

Should this humble attempt tend to circulate more widely the Virtues it aspires to praise, or induce some more elevated Bard to

         “Touch the sounding strings,
And in more fervid pœans sing his fame.”

the Author will be highly gratified and rejoice in the happy effects of his labours.

He begs most respectfully
to subscribe himself,
your Ladyship’s very obedient,
humble Servant,
PHILO.

TO THE READER.

The principal part of the following little Poem (if it deserves so high a character) was composed ten or a dozen years ago, and is extracted from a much longer Eulogy upon our Great Patriot, his Holkham, and his Agriculture; but which, for reasons not necessary to mention here, has never met the public eye; nor would what is here published, have