Sonnet. to Melissa

Through all the woes which destiny severe, Has doom'd this wretched bosom to sustain, One tender thought still moderates its pain, And saves my lab'ring mind from dire despair! —When far from thee by hopeless sorrow led, O'er stormy seas, and foreign lands thy love shall stray; Tho' urg'd by want to ask precarious bread, One tender thought shall cheer the toilsome way! And when, at last, worn out by ceaseless care, I seek lorn Melancholy's quiet cell, For THEE I'll earnest breathe my latest pray'r, On thee my latest thought shall fondly dwell!

'Till the last sigh shall from my lips depart, I'll keep the dear idea cherish'd in my heart!