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If birds of Paradise were there,
He fondly guards the glowing trace.

Like him, recall the landscape sweet
That woke on this auspicious day;
Nor let so fair an image fleet
From memory's vivid page away.

Regard, as through some fountain wave,
Whose crystal courts the admiring view;
The brilliant pearls that knowledge gave,
The coral cells where friendship grew.

Nor oh, forget the sigh for those,
Companions then, in youthful bloom;
Who, withering like the smitten rose,
Have sunk in beauty to the tomb.

Where'er o'er life's eventful stage
Your far divided path may tend;
Where o'er your locks the frosts of age
Or chilling snows of care descend,

Though she, who once with partial eyes,
The record of your worth would keep,
Buried and cold to earthly ties,
Should moulder in oblivion's sleep,

Remember still this sacred hour,
By pity to the sons of need;
By pure affection's changeless power,
By deep devotion's heaven-born deed.