Written at the Cottage of T. LEWIS, Esq. Woodbury Downs.
In the retirement of this lovely spot,
Sacred to friendship, industry, and worth,
To boundless hospitality and mirth,
Be ever peace and joy--all care forgot,
Save that which carest for a higher, holier, lot!
And thou, sweet girl, whose lovely modest mien,
Cheers the gay banquet with unconscious wiles,
Long mayest thou grace it with affection's smiles,
The vocal syren of this sylvan scene.
Warbling thy sweetest notes 'midst flowers and woodlands green.
Long be the social circle's grace and pride,
Of parents' hopes, the dearest and the best,
"The Dove of promise to this ark of rest:"
Who, when around the world's fierce billows ride,
Beareth the branch that speaks of the receding tide!
_July, 1827_
TO THADDEUS.[1]
Farewell! loved youth, for still I hold thee dear,
Though thou hast left me friendless and alone;
Still, still thy name recals the heartfelt tear,
That hastes MATILDA to her wish'd-for home.
Why leave the wretch thy perfidy hath made,
To journey cheerless through the world's wide waste?
Say, why so soon does all thy kindness fade,
And doom me, thus, affliction's cup to taste?
Ungen'rous deed! to fly the faithful maid
Who, for thy arms, abandon'd every friend;
Oh! cruel thought, that virtue, thus betray'd,
Should feel a pang that death alone can end.
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