SONNET.
Ye fond companions of my early years, Whose converse cherished many an hour of bliss,Whom yet the tie of mutual love endears, Receive this offering with a welcome kiss.
Warm from the minstrel's heart the tribute springs, Pure, as the breath of eve; in truth it flowsTo yield some solace to your kindred woes; Well may I know the pangs despondence brings:
O! be the generous care forever mine, To steal the tear from pity's shivering cheek;The tear of love with eloquence can speak, And friendship's hand the wreath of peace entwine;
And I were blest, should your approving smileGreet my young stranger, and his fears beguile.
