Poems (Frances Elizabeth Browne)/Lines to an old school-fellow
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!
We 've been school-fellows, playmates, companions, and friends;
May time our affection improve!
May we rival each other in laudable ends,
While, matured by experience, our judgment commends
Our early attachment and love!
May time our affection improve!
May we rival each other in laudable ends,
While, matured by experience, our judgment commends
Our early attachment and love!
Companions are numerous, friends are but rare,
True friendship but seldom is found;
'T is a delicate plant, must be cherished with care,
Requires showers and sunshine, warm soil and pure air,
While fenced and well guarded around.
True friendship but seldom is found;
'T is a delicate plant, must be cherished with care,
Requires showers and sunshine, warm soil and pure air,
While fenced and well guarded around.
The soft tear in sorrow, the bright smile in joy,
True friendship must ever bestow;
Sincerity pure and unmixed with alloy,
While firmness must guard, lest the cold world destroy
The heartfelt, ennobling glow.
True friendship must ever bestow;
Sincerity pure and unmixed with alloy,
While firmness must guard, lest the cold world destroy
The heartfelt, ennobling glow.
The cold world,—ah! yes, my dear girl, 't is indeed
Cold, heartless, and dangerous, too;
From its snares and temptations, O, may we be freed!
Its frowns may we brave, with heaven for our meed,
When we bid it for ever adieu.
Cold, heartless, and dangerous, too;
From its snares and temptations, O, may we be freed!
Its frowns may we brave, with heaven for our meed,
When we bid it for ever adieu.