To ----

These lines, which on this leaf I write, I trace with friendly thoughts of thee, And hope, when o'er this page you glance, You'll think a kindly thought of me.

And why should I this tribute ask? Why crave from you this humble boon? Because I knew you through life's morn, And hope to know you in its noon.

Because the path of life we trod, With youthful hearts so free from pain, When both together went to school, And wander'd gaily home again.

This, then, is why I ask of you, As on this little page you look, To think of me, with other friends, Whose names are written in your book.

TO A FRIEND.

In years to come, when looking o'er These lines I've penn'd for thee, I trust that thou shalt ne'er have cause To think unkind of me.

And if you have, let memory Try hard to blunt the dart, And tho' I may deserve the blame, Let kindness soothe the smart.

TO A FRIEND.

The youthful joys of vanish'd years, The joys e'en now we share, Have something of a sacred bliss, Which time can not impair.

For when the years of youth have gone, Its joys and hopes have flown, The mem'ry clings with fond embrace-- Those joys are still our own.

Then, as I write these words for you,-- This earnest wish I pen: That you may think but pleasant thoughts-- When life's liv'd o'er again.

May nought of sorrow, or of woe, Invade to wound or pain, And may the joys that we have shar'd Be bright in mem'ry's train.