Ah, Postumus, We All Must Go: This Keen North-Easter Nips My Shoulder; My Strength Begins To Fail; I Know You Find Me Older; I've Made My Will. Dear, Faithful Friend-- My Muse'S Friend And Not My Purse'S! Who Still Would Hear And Still Commend My Tedious Verses, How Will You Live--Of These Deprived? I've Learned Your Candid Soul. The Venal,-- The Sordid Friend Had Scarce Survived A Test So Penal; But You--Nay, Nay, 'Tis So. The Rest Are Not As You: You Hide Your Merit; You, More Than All, Deserve The Best True Friends Inherit;-- Not Gold,--That Hearts Like Yours Despise; Not "Spacious Dirt" (Your Own Expression), No; But The Rarer, Dearer Prize-- The Life'S Confession! You Catch My Thought? What! Can't You Guess? You, You Alone, Admired My Cantos;-- I've Left You, P., My Whole Ms., In Three Portmanteaus!