Friends have you here, and friendships to command,
In merry England. Love this hearty land.
Ease, comfort, competence—of these possess'd,
Let prodigal adventurers seek the rest:
Dear England is as you,—a Field the Lord hath blest.
TO M[ARY] L[AETITIA] F[IELD]
(Expecting to See Her Again after a Long Interval)
How many wasting, many wasted years,
Have run their round, since I beheld your face!
In Memory's dim eye it yet appears
Crowned, as it then seemed, with a chearful grace.
Young prattling Maiden, on the Thames' fair side,
Enlivening pleasant Sunbury with your smiles,
Time may have changed you: coy reserve, or pride,
To sullen looks reduced those mirthful wiles.
I will not 'bate one smile on that clear brow,
But take of Time a rigorous account,
When next I see you; and Maria now
Must be the Thing she was. To what amount
These verses else?—all hollow and untrue—
This was not writ, these lines not meant, for YOU.
TO ESTHER FIELD
Esther, holy name and sweet,
Smoothly runs on even feet,
To the mild Acrostic bending;
Hebrew recollections blending.
Ever keep that Queen in view—
Royal namesake—bold, and true!
Firm she stood in evil times,
In the face of Haman's crimes.—
Ev'n as She, do Thou possess
Loftiest virtue in the dress,
Dear F——, of native loveliness.
[TO MRS. WILLIAMS]
(1830)
Go little Poem, and present
Respectful terms of compliment;
A gentle lady bids thee speak!
Courteous is she, tho' thou be weak—
Evoke from Heaven as thick as manna