(And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile,) Could those few pleasant hours again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart---the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.--- , But 10---what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. Thus, as a gallant hark from Albion's coast (The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed) Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, Where spices breathe and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay; So thou, with sails how swift! hast reached the shore, “ Where tempests never beat nor billows roar*,” And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life, long since, has anchored at thy side. / But me, scarce hoping to attain that rest, Always from port withheld, always distressedMe howling winds drive devious, tempest-tossed, Sails ript, seams opening wide, and compass lost, And day by day some current's thwarting force Sets me more distant from a prosperous course; But oh the thought, that thou art safe, and he ! That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise--The son of parents passed into the skies. And now, farewell---time unrevoked has run His wonted course, yet what I wished is done. By contemplation's help, not sought in vain, I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine;

And while the wings of fancy still are free,
And I can view this mimic shew of thee,
Time has but half succeeded in his theft---
Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left. /

FRIENDSHIP.

WHAT virtue or what mental grace
But men unqualified and base

Will boast in their possession ?
Profusion apes the noble part
Of liberality of heart,

And dulness of discretion.

If every polished gem we find,
Illuminating heart or mind,

Provoke to imitation;
No wonder friendship does the same,
That jewel of the purest Aame,

Or rather constellation.

No knave but boldy will pretend
The requisites that form a friend,

A real and a sound one,
Nor
any

fool he would deceive, But prove as ready to believe,

And dream that he had found one.

Candid, and generous, and just,
Boys care but little whom they trust,

An error soon corrected---
For who but learns in riper years,
That man, when smoothest it appears,

Is most to be suspected ?
But here again a danger lies,
Lest, having misapplied our eyes

And taken trash for treasure,
We should unwearily conclude
Friendship a false ideal good,
A mere Utopian pleasure.

An acquisition rather rare
Is yet no subject of despair;

Nor is it wise complaining,
If either on forbidden ground,
Or where it was not to be found,

We sought without attaining.

No friendship will abide the test,
That stands on sordid interest,

Or mean self-love erected;
Nor such as may awhile subsist
Between the sot and sensualist,

For vicious ends connected.

Who seek a friend, should come disposed To exhibit in full bloom disclosed

The graces and the beauties, That form the character he seeks, For 'tis an union that bespeaks

Reciprocated duties.

Mutual attention is implied,
And equal truth on either side,

And constantly supported;
'Tis senseless arrogance to accuse
Another of sinister views,

Our own as much distorted.

But will sincerity suffice?
It is indeed above all price,

And must be made the basis ;
But every virtue of the soul
Must constitute the charming whole,

All shining in their places.

A fretful temper will divide
The closest knot that may be tied,

By ceaseless sharp corrosion ;
A temper passionate and fierce
May suddenly your joys disperse

At one immense explosion.

In vain the talkative unite
In hopes of permanent delight---

The secret just committed
Forgetting its important weight,
They drop through mere desire to prate,

And by themselves outwitted.

How bright soe'er the prospect seems,
All thoughts of friendship are but dreams

If envy chance to creep in;
An envious man, if you succeed,
May prove a dangerous foe indeed,

But not a friend worth keeping.

As envy pines at good possessed,
So jealousy looks forth distressed

On good, that seems approaching,
And if success his steps attend,
Discerns a rival in a friend,

And hates him for encroaching.

Hence authors of illustrious name,
Unless belied hy common fame,

Are sadly prone to quarrel,
To deem the wit a friend displays
A tax upon their own just praise.

And pluck each other's laurel.

A man renowned for repartee
Will seldom scruple to make free

With friendship's finest feeling ;
Will thrust a dagger at your breast,
And say he wounded you in jest,

By way of balm for healing.

Whoever keeps an open ear
For tattlers, will be sure to hear

The trumpet of contention;
Aspersion is the babbler's trade,
To listen is to lend him aid,

And rush into dissention.

A Friendship, that in frequent fits
Of controversial rage emits

The sparks of disputation,
Like hand in hand insurance plates,
Most unavoidably creates

The thought of conflagration. /

Some fickle creatures boast a soul
True as a needle to the pole,

Their humour yet so various---
They manifest their whole life through
The needle's deviations too,

Their love is so precarious.

The great and small but rarely meet
On terms of amity complete,

Plebians must surrender, -
And yield so much to noble folk,
It is combining fire with smoke,

Obscurity with splendour.

Some are so placid and serene
(As Irish bogs are always green)

They sleep secure from waking ?
And are indeed a bog, that bears
Your unparticipated cares

Unmoved and without quaking,

Courtier and patriot cannot mix
Their heterogenious politics

Without an effervescence,
Like that of salts with lemon juice,
Which does not yet like that produce ·

A friendly coalescence.

Religion should extinguish strife,
And make a calm of human life;

But friends that chance to differ
On points, which God has left at large,
How freely will they meet and charge,

No combatants are stiffer !