314
Friendship and Love.
Oft have I sighed for pleasure past,
Oft wept for secret smarting—
But far the heaviest drop of all
That ever on my cheek did fall
The tear was at our parting.
Why did our bosoms ever beat
Harmonious with each other,
If truest sympathies of soul
Might broken be, perhaps the w'hole
Concentred in another?
My fear it was w hen other scenes,
With other tongues, and faces,
Should greet thee, thou w'ould'st haply be
Forgetful of our amity
In old frequented places.
'Tis even so—the thrall of love,
Past ties to thee seem common—
