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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.
Such is the common lot of man:
Can we reverse the general plan,
Nor be what all in turn must be?
No, for myself, so dark my fate
Through every turn of life hath been;
But thou, with spirit frail and light,
Alas! whenever folly calls
Where parasites and princes meet, (For cherish'd first in royal halls, The welcome vices kindly greet)
Ev'n now thou'rt nightly seen to add
There dost thou glide from fair to fair,
That taint the flowers they scarcely taste.
But say, what nymph will prize the flame
To flit along from dame to dame,
What friend for thee, howe'er inclined,
In time forbear; amidst the throng
Be something, any thing, but-mean.
WELL! thou art happy, and I feel
Thy husband's blest-and 'twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot: But let them pass-Oh! how my heart Would hate him, if he loved thee not!
When late I saw thy favourite child,
I kiss'd it, and repress'd my sighs
And they were all to love and me.
Mary, adieu! I must away :
While thou art blest I 'll not repine; But near thee I can never stay;
My heart would soon again be thine.
I deem'd that time, I deem'd that pride
My heart in all, save hope, the same.
Yet was I calm: I knew the time
My breast would thrill before thy look; But now to tremble were a crime
We met, and not a nerve was shook.
I saw thee gaze upon my face,
Yet meet with no confusion there: One only feeling could'st thou trace; The sullen calmness of despair.
Away! away! my early dream
Remembrance never must awake:
Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream?
FROM THE PORTUGUESE.
IN moments to delight devoted,
"My life!" with tend'rest tone, you cry; Dear words! on which my heart had doted, If youth could neither fade nor die. To death even hours like these must roll, Ah! then repeat those accents never; Or change "my life!" into "my soul !" Which, like my love, exists for ever.