251 
And proffers all it hath of shade 
When noon’s fierce heats his frame invade. 
And while reclined its boughs beneath. 
If, Fancy, thou thy spirit breathe 
Into each fair and fragrant wreath, 
Oh ! then, what thrilling memories, 
What thoughts within his bosom rise 
Of some fond friend, perchance, who showers 
His daily path with fairest flowers, 
Who greets him with a smile so sweet, 
’T was worth the absence thus to meet. 
Or, if a graver mood be thine, 
Thou mind’st him of a hand divine; 
A friend, all other friends above, 
“ Whose nature and whose name is love; ” 
Who marks his steps, appoints his way, 
Attempers joy’s too fervid ray, 
And for the dark and stormy hour 
lleserveth still some precious flower; 
And Who, when life’s rough ways are past, 
Receives him to Himself at last. 
