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With fools in kindred vice the same,

We learn at length our faults to blend; And those, and those alone, may claim The prostituted name of friend.


Such is the common lot of man:
Can we then 'scape from folly free?

Can we reverse the general plan,

Nor be what all in turn must be?


No, for myself, so dark my fate

Through every turn of life hath been;
Man and the world I so much hate,
I care not when I quit the scene.


But thou, with spirit frail and light,
Wilt shine awhile and pass away;
As glow-worms sparkle through the night,
But dare not stand the test of day.


Alas! whenever folly calls

Where parasites and princes meet, (For cherish'd first in royal halls, The welcome vices kindly greet)


Ev'n now thou'rt nightly seen to add
One insect to the fluttering crowd;
And still thy trifling heart is glad,
To join the vain, and court the proud.


There dost thou glide from fair to fair,
Still simpering on with eager haste,
As flies along the gay parterre,

That taint the flowers they scarcely taste.


But say, what nymph will prize the flame
Which seems, as marshy vapours move,

To flit along from dame to dame,
An ignis-fatuus gleam of love?


What friend for thee, howe'er inclined,
Will deign to own a kindred care?
Who will debase his manly mind,
For friendship every fool may share?


In time forbear; amidst the throng
No more so base a thing be seen;
No more so idly pass along :

Be something, any thing, but-mean.





WELL! thou art happy, and I feel
That I should thus be happy too;
For still my heart regards thy weal
Warmly, as it was wont to do.


Thy husband's blest-and 'twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot: But let them pass-Oh! how my heart Would hate him, if he loved thee not!


When late I saw thy favourite child,
I thought my jealous heart would break;
But when th' unconscious infant smiled,
I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.


I kiss'd it, and repress'd my sighs
Its father in its face to see;
But then it had its mother's eyes,

And they were all to love and me.


Mary, adieu! I must away :

While thou art blest I 'll not repine; But near thee I can never stay;

My heart would soon again be thine.


I deem'd that time, I deem'd that pride
Had quench'd at length my boyish flame;
Nor knew, till seated by thy side,

My heart in all, save hope, the same.


Yet was I calm: I knew the time

My breast would thrill before thy look; But now to tremble were a crime

We met, and not a nerve was shook.


I saw thee gaze upon my face,

Yet meet with no confusion there: One only feeling could'st thou trace; The sullen calmness of despair.


Away! away! my early dream

Remembrance never must awake:

Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream?
My foolish heart be still, or break.


IN moments to delight devoted,

"My life!" with tend'rest tone, you cry; Dear words! on which my heart had doted, If youth could neither fade nor die. To death even hours like these must roll, Ah! then repeat those accents never; Or change "my life!" into "my soul !" Which, like my love, exists for ever.

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