The starting tear I check’d, I kiss’d the rod,
And not to earth consign’d her—but to God.
LIFE. A POEM.
While through life’s thorny road I go,
I will not want companions too:
A dreary journey, and alone,
Would be, alas! too troublesome.
But company that’s choice and good,
Makes trouble hardly understood:
For toil, divided, seems to be