Through life’s dull road, so dim a
I have dragg’d to three-and-thirty
What have these years left to me?
Nothing—except thirty-three.

'OH! banish care’—such ever be
The motto of thy revelry!
Perchance of mine, when wassail ni
Renew those riotous delights,
Wherewith the children of Despair

And thou art dead, as young and fa
As aught of mortal birth;
And form so soft, and charms so ra
Too soon return’d to Earth!
Though Earth received them in her

Written Under The Impression Tha
Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy
Spread roses o’er my brow;
Where Science seeks each loiterin
With knowledge to endow.

Dear Becher, you tell me to mix w
I cannot deny such a precept is wi
But retirement accords with the to
I will not descend to a world I d
Did the senate or camp my exertion

Time was, ere yet in these degener
Ignoble themes obtain’d mistaken p
When sense and wit with poesy alli
No fabl’d graces, flourish’d side
From the same fount their inspirat

Oh! did those eyes, instead of fir
With bright, but mild affection sh
Though they might kindle less desi
Love, more than mortal, would be t
For thou art form’d so heavenly fa

‘Away, away, your fleeting arts
May now betray some simpler hearts
And you will smile at their believ
And they shall weep at your deceiv
ANSWER TO THE FOREGO

Remember him, whom Passion’s powe
Severely—-deeply—-vainly proved:
Remember thou that dangerous hour,
When neither fell, though both wer
That yielding breast, that melting

Oh! did those eyes, instead of fir
With bright, but mild affection sh
Though they might kindle less desi
Love, more than mortal, would be t
For thou art form’d so heavenly fa