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LINES TO AN OLD SCHOOL-FELLOW.
My dearest Elizabeth, at your desire
I exert my poetical vein,
And if not the Muses, let friendship inspire,
Although not a spark of the radiant fire
Of genius embellish the strain.
I exert my poetical vein,
And if not the Muses, let friendship inspire,
Although not a spark of the radiant fire
Of genius embellish the strain.
We 've been children together,—now childhood is past;
The spring-time, the dawn of our years,
T is gone! and our summer will vanish as fast;
O, let us remember that youth will not last,
Nor sigh when grave autumn appears!
The spring-time, the dawn of our years,
T is gone! and our summer will vanish as fast;
O, let us remember that youth will not last,
Nor sigh when grave autumn appears!
