VI. I know not if I could have borne To see thy beauties fade; The night that follow'd such a morn Thy day without a cloud hath pass'd, As stars that shoot along the sky VII. As once I wept, if I could weep, To gaze, how fondly! on thy face, VIII. Yet how much less it were to gain, The all of thine that cannot die And more thy buried love endears STANZAS. I. Ir sometimes in the haunts of men The lonely hour presents again The semblance of thy gentle shade: And now that sad and silent hour Thus much of thee can still restore, And sorrow unobserved may pour The plaint she dare not speak before. II. Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile, III. If not the goblet pass unquaff'd, From all her troubled visions free, IV. For wert thou vanish'd from my mind, No, no That last dear duty to fulfil; Though all the world forget beside, 'T is meet that I remember still. V. For well I know, that such had been Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven, March 14th, 1812. POEMS. ON A CORNELIAN HEART WHICH WAS BROKEN. I. ILL-FATED Heart! and can it be That thou shouldst thus be rent in twain? Have years of care for thine and thee Alike been all employ'd in vain? II. Yet precious seems each shatter'd part, Few years TO A YOUTHFUL FRIEND I. 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. But now, II. like me, too well thou know'st What trifles oft the heart recall; And those who once have lov'd the most, III. And such the change the heart displays, IV. If so, it never shall be mine To mourn the loss of such a heart; 111 V. As rolls the ocean's changing tide, VI. It boots not, that together bred, VII. 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. VIII. 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. IX. Not so in Man's maturer years, X. 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. XI. 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? XII. No, for myself, so dark my fate XIII. But thou, with spirit frail and light, XIV. Alas! whenever folly calls Where parasites and princes meet, (For cherish'd first in royal halls, The welcome vices kindly greet,) XV. Ev'n now thou 'rt nightly seen to add To join the vain, and court the proud. XVI. There dost thou glide from fair to fair, As flies along the gay parterre, That taint the flowers they scarcely taste. XVII. But say, what nymph will prize the flame To flit along from dame to dame, XVIII. What friend for thee, howe'er inclined, VOL. IV.-I |