TO EMMA.
With thee, my Emma, lovely fair, with thee
Life’s varied path I’ll tread contentedly;
When rising morn her blooming tints displays,
And clads all nature with enlivening rays;
Or when the threatning storm in dark attire,
Beclouds the scene, and hurls etherial fire:
Sweet innocence, bright beaming from thine eye,
Shall heavenly hope and fortitude supply;
—Together then, my Emma, let us stray,
Where heaven and virtuous love shall point the way.
VIATOR.
For the New-York Weekly Magazine.