a 
POETRY. 
TLRS teat led ataieiedin meriaisareial eS ee ee 
TO A FRIEND. 
For the Bee. 
/Ferenp of my youth, thedd’st thou the pitying teat 
O’er the sad relicks of my happier days? 
"Of nature tender, as of soul sincere, 
Pour’st thou for me the melancholy lays ? 
Oh truly said !—the distant landscape bright, 
~ Whose vivid colours glitter’d on the eye, 
Is faded now, and sunk in fhades of nights 
‘As, on some chilly eve, the closing flow’rets dis. 
How vain the thought.—Hope after hope expires, 
- Friend after friend, joy after joy is lost 5 
My dearest withes feed the fun’ral fires, 
‘Ana life is purchas’d at too dear a cost! 
Yet, could my heart the selfith comfort knows 
That, not alone, I murmur and complain, 
Well might I find companions im my woe, 
All born to grief,—the family of pain. 
Full well I know, in life’s uncertain road, 
The thorns of mis’ry are profusely sown 5 
Full well I know, in this low vile abode, 
Beneath the chast’ning rod what numbers groan. 
To them, alas! what boots the light of heav’n, 
While still new mis’ries mark their destin’d ways 
‘Whether to their unhappy lot be giv’, 
Death’s long sad night, or life’s fhort busy day ? 
If eer a gleam of comfort glads my soul, 
If e’er my brow to wonted smiles unbends, 
"Tis when the flecting minutes as they roll, 
Can add one. gleam of pleasure to my friends. 
Ev’n in these hades, the last retreat of grief, 
, Some transient blefsings will that thougat bestow, 
‘To melancholy’s self yield some relief, 
And ease the breast, surcharg’d with mortal woe~ 
Long has my bark in rudest tempest tofs"d, 
Buffetted seas, and stemm’d life’s hostile wave, 
“Suffice it now, in all my withes crofs’d, 
To seek a peaceful harbour in the grave. 
VOL. xii. ) Ay 
