WHEN I was still a youthful wight,
So full of enjoyment and merry,
The painters used to assert, in spite,
That my features were small—yes, very;
Yet then full many a beauteous child
With true affection upon me smil'd.
Now as a greybeard I sit here in state,
By street and by lane held in awe, sirs;
And may be seen, like old Frederick the Great,
On pipebowls, on cups, and on saucers.
Yet the beauteous maidens, they keep afar;
Oh vision of youth! Oh golden star!
1826. ——- FOR EVER.
THE happiness that man, whilst prison'd here,
Is wont with heavenly rapture to compare,—
The harmony of Truth, from wavering clear,—
Of Friendship that is free from doubting care,—
The light which in stray thoughts alone can cheer