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And now that sad and silent hour
Thus much of thee can still restore,
2. Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile,
I waste one thought I owe to thee,
Unfaithful to thy Memory!
That then I seem not to repine,
One sigh that should be wholly thine.
It is not drain’d to banish care,
That brings a Lethe for despair,
From all her troubled visions free, I'd dash to earth the sweetest bowl
That drown'd a single thought of thee.
4. For wert thou vanish'd from my mind,
Where could my vacant bosom turn? And who would then remain behind
To honour tbine abandon'd Uro? No, no-it is my sorrow's pride
That last dear duty to fulfil; Though all the world forget beside,
"Tis meet that I remember still.
5. For well I know, that such had been
Tby gentle care for him, who now Unmouro'd shall quit this mortal scene,
Where none regarded him, but thou: And, Oh! I feel in that was given
A blessing never meant for me; Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven, For earthly Love to merit thee.
March 14th, 1812.
[This poem and the following were written some years ago.]
TO A YOUTHFUL FRIEND.
1. Few years have pass'd since thou and I
Were firmest friends, at least in name, And childhood's gay sincerity
Preserved our feelings long the same,
What trifles oft the heart recall;
Too soon forget they loved at all.
So frail is early friendship’s reign,
Will view thy mind estranged again.
To mourn the loss of such a heart; The fault was Nature's fault, not thine,
Which made thee fickle as thou art
5. As rolls the ocean's changing tide,
So human feelings ebb and flow; And who would in a breast confide
Where stormy passions ever glow?
6. It boots not, that together bred,
Our childish days were days of joy; My spring of life has quickly fled;
Thou, too, hast ceased to be a boy.
7. And when we bid adieu to youth,
Slaves to the specious world's control, We sigh a long farewell to truth;
That world corrupts the noblest soul,
8. Ah, joyous season! when the mind
Dares all things boldly but to lie; When thought, ere spoke, is unconfined,
And sparkles in the placid eye.
9. Not so in Man's maturer years,
When Man himself is but a tool; When interest sways our hopes and fears,
And all must love and hate by rule.
10. With fools in kindred vice the same,
We learn at length our faults to blend, And those, and those alone may claim
The prostituted name of friend.
11. Such is the common lot of man:
Can we then 'scape from folly free? Can we reverse the general plan,
Nor be what all in turn must be?
12. No, for myself, so dark my fate
Through every turn of life hath been; Man and the world I so much bate,
I care not when I quit the scene.
13, But thou, with spirit frail and light,
Wilt shine awhile and pass away; As glow-worms sparkle tbrough the night,
But dare not stand the test of day.
14. Alas! whenever Folly calls
Where parasites and princes meet, (For cherish'd first in royal halls,
The welcome vices kindly greet.)
15. Ev’n now thou’rt nightly seen to add
One insect to the fluttering crowd; And still thy trifling heart is glad,
To join the vain, and court the proud.
16. There dost thou glide from fair to fair,
Still simpering on with eager baste, As flies along the gay parterre,
That taint the flowers they scarcely taste.
17. But say, what nymph will prize the flame
Which seems, as marshy vapours move, To flit along from dame to dame,
An ignis fatuus gleam of love?
18, What friend for thee, howe'er inclined,
Will deign to own a kindred care! Who will debase his manly mind,
For friendship every fool may share?
19. In time forbear; amidst the throng
No more so base a thing be seen; No more so idly pass along:
Be something, any thing, but-mean.
TO * * * * **
1. WELL! thou art happy, and I feel
- That I should thus be happy too; For still my heart regards thy weal
Warmly, as it was wont to do.
2. Thy husband's blestmaqd 'twill impart
Some pangs to view bis happier lot: