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While my young cheek retains its healthful hues, And I have many friends who hold me dear, L----[236:2]! methinks, I would not often hear Such melodies as thine, lest I should lose All memory of the wrongs and sore distress For which my miserable brethren weep! But should uncomforted misfortunes steep My daily bread in tears and bitterness; And if at Death's dread moment I should lie With no belovéd face at my bed-side, To fix the last glance of my closing eye, Methinks such strains, breathed by my angel-guide, Would make me pass the cup of anguish by, Mix with the blest, nor know that I had died!

1797.