love’s token-flowers. 59 
Through the darksome glen, where the noontide 
beam 
Scarce touches its wave with a fleeting ray. 
We shall meet no more on the mountain height, 
Where the mouldering fort in its ruin stands, 
While our hearts are thrilling with proud delight 
As we think on the deeds of our patriot bands. 
We shall wander no more amid nature’s wealth, 
The gold-broidered field and the silver rill, 
We shall meet not again as we woo sweet health 
By the shady del) or the breezy hill. 
Like the passing shade on the mountain’s brow 
Which fleets with the cloud that gave it birth, 
Are the joys that our hearts are cherishing now, 
The fleeting friendships of changeful earth. 
