90
poems.
VERSES ADDRESSED TO EMILY GRAY.
Farewell, beloved friend! When spring's first flow'rs
Are breathing perfume to the passing air,
When warmer suns make bright the summer hours,
No more may I with you their sweetness share.
Are breathing perfume to the passing air,
When warmer suns make bright the summer hours,
No more may I with you their sweetness share.
I go where fruitful hills in beauty rise,
Around whose feet the coolest streamlets flow;
Where transient showers only veil the skies;
The dearest spot to me on earth below.
Around whose feet the coolest streamlets flow;
Where transient showers only veil the skies;
The dearest spot to me on earth below.
And can I wander from my childhood's home,
And yet not know a feeling of regret?
Ah, never, never! still, where'er I roam,
My constant heart will never quite forget.
And yet not know a feeling of regret?
Ah, never, never! still, where'er I roam,
My constant heart will never quite forget.
I go to dwell 'midst scenes of beauty, where
I oft sweet days of happiness have known;
Yet though they be so loved, so bright, and fair,
Yet never will I e'er forget mine own.
I oft sweet days of happiness have known;
Yet though they be so loved, so bright, and fair,
Yet never will I e'er forget mine own.
Nor thee, dear friend, whose friendship ere shall be
In mem'ry treasur'd; it stands alone
In all its pure and sweet sincerity,
A happy gleam upon the sad one thrown.
In mem'ry treasur'd; it stands alone
In all its pure and sweet sincerity,
A happy gleam upon the sad one thrown.