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Poems.
They 're apt to cherish hopes that cheat,
And when their hearts beat high,
They find, alas! what promised bright,
Was not too bright to die.
And when their hearts beat high,
They find, alas! what promised bright,
Was not too bright to die.
And though they nurture in the breast,
Feelings, the warmest kind;
Yet are they doomed to feel the breath
Of censure touch their mind.
Feelings, the warmest kind;
Yet are they doomed to feel the breath
Of censure touch their mind.
They often sacrifice the bliss,
That Fortune's favorites share,
And in unheeded solitude,
Her proud, cold frowns must bear.
That Fortune's favorites share,
And in unheeded solitude,
Her proud, cold frowns must bear.
Pretended friends may chant their praise,
If wealthy they but seem;
Yet turn the scale, sans riches they,
And friendship 's then a dream.
If wealthy they but seem;
Yet turn the scale, sans riches they,
And friendship 's then a dream.
But friendship is not always false,
There 's one that ne'er deceives;
For ages past, the poet's friend,
Which every bard believes.
There 's one that ne'er deceives;
For ages past, the poet's friend,
Which every bard believes.
