Seeks to delay the coming hour of rest,
Till sudden slumbers steal upon his smiles
And veil him in a dream of love and joy,
He seem'd reluctant to withdraw his beams;
And, rich in roseate beauty, for awhile
Kept the green waves beneath his glowing head.
Kind, gentle Osborne! half a century
Has silver'd o'er the crisp and yellow locks
Of thy young auditor, but memory still
Grasps the torn record of my weary life.