When acts of affection have soften’d the heart,
And taught two fond bosoms in union to glow,
Oh! how sweet is the joy that their meetings impart,
The pleasures how lively from converse that flow.
But oh! when the warm hand of friendship sincere,
Is shook—and those pleasures are soon to be past,
How painful the thought, and how galling the fear,
That friends are assembled—perhaps for the last.
Yes! such were the pangs I was destined to know,
When from thy dear circle I lately withdrew;
And I said, as we parted, wherever I go,
Oh! think of me often, and I’ll think of you.
’Tis thus we may still, although seas intervene,
In fond recollection past pleasures recall,
And forget in our dreams of the days that have been,
The woes that await us—the ills that befall.
And oft, as ye rove o’er the frequented green,
Or pause at high noon, to regale in the shade,
Remember how oft with you there I have been,
When summer with roses enamelled the glade.
The flowers of your fields, they were lovely and fair,
And charmed with their fragrance the hours that are gone,
Yet, it had been a desert if you’d not been there,
Ye tender and beautiful nymphs of the lawn.
Adieu, smiling circle; wherever I go,
In memory still shall I turn to this spot,
And cherish thy noble and generous glow,
Till virtue, and friendship, and love be forgot.