White and black in Him have part,
Who looks not to the skin, but heart.
[TO A YOUNG FRIEND,]
ON HER TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY.
Crown me a cheerful goblet, while I pray
A blessing on thy years, young Isola;
Young, but no more a child. How swift have flown
To me thy girlish times, a woman grown
Beneath my heedless eyes! in vain I rack