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Many sounds were sweet, Most ravishing and pleasant to the ear ; But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend, Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm. Some I remember, and will ne'er forget, My early friends, friends of my evil day; Friends in my mirth, friends in my misery too; Friends given by God, in mercy and in love. My counsellors, my comforters, and guides; My joy in grief my second grief in joy ; Companions of my young desires ; in doubt My oracles; my wings in high pursuit. Oh, I remember, and will ne'er forget Our meeting-spots, our chosen sacred hours; Our burning words, that uttered all the soul; Our faces beaming with unearthly love; Sorrow with sorrow sighing, hope with hope Exulting, heart embracing heart entire. As birds of social feather, helping each His fellow's flight, we soared into the skies, And cast the clouds beneath our feet, and earth With all her tardy leaden-footed cares, And talked the speech, and ate the food of heaven.
TO A FRIEND,
ON HIS PROPOSING TO DOMESTICATE WITH THE
A MOUNT, not wearisome, and bare, and steep, But a green mountain various.y up-piled, Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep, Or coloured lichens with slow oozing weep; Where cypress and the darker yew start wild ; And, 'mid the summer torrent's gentle dash, Dance brightened the red clusters of the ash; Beneath whose boughs, by stillest sounds beguiled, Calm Pensiveness might muse herself to sleep; Till, haply started by some fleecy dam, That, rustling on the bushy cliff above, With melancholy bleat of anxious love, Made meek inquiry for her wandering lamb: Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet to climb, E'en while the bosom ached with lonelinessHow heavenly sweet, if some dear friend should
bless Th' advent'rous toil, and up the path sublime Now lead, now follow; the glad landscape round, Wide and more wide, increasing without bound !
0, then 'twere loveliest sympathy, to mark The berries of the half up-rooted ash
Dripping and bright; and list the torrent's dash-
dewed: Then downwards slope, oft pausing, from the
mount, To some low mansion in some woody dale, Where, smiling with blue eye, Domestic Bliss Gives this the husband's, that the brother's kiss