No more with affection shall memory blending, However, dear George, for I still must esteem you— you, Repentance will cancel the vow you have made. I will not complain, and though chilled is affection, That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive. You knew that my soul, that my heart, my existence You knew, but away with the vain retrospection! The bond of affection no longer endures; Too late you may droop o'er the fond recollection, And sigh for the friend who was formerly yours. For the present, we part, I will hope not for ever; TO THE EARL OF CLARE. "Tu semper amoris Sis memor, et cari comitis ne abscedat imago." VAL. FLAC. FRIEND of my youth! when young we roved, Like striplings, mutually beloved, With friendship's purest glow, The bliss which winged those rosy hours The recollection seems alone Dearer than all the joys I've known, Though pain, 'tis still a pleasing pain, My pensive memory lingers o'er And we may meet ah! never! As when one parent spring supplies Together joined in vain; How soon, diverging from their source, Our vital streams of weal or woe, Now swift or slow, now black or clear Our souls, my friend! which once supplied "Tis yours to mix in polished courts, 'Tis mine to waste on love my time, For sense and reason (critics know it) Poor LITTLE! sweet, melodious bard! That he, who sang before all, - These stanzas were written soon after the appearance of a And yet, while Beauty's praise is thine, Thy soothing lays may still be read, Still I must yield those worthies merit, Bad rhymes, and those who write them; I really will not fight them.* Perhaps they would do quite as well Now, Clare, I must return to you; Accept, then, my concession. severe critique, in a northern review, on a new publication of the British Anacreon. -[See Edinburgh Review, July, 1807, article on "Epistles, Odes, and other Poems, by Thomas Little Esq."] * A bard [Moore] (horresco referens) defied his reviewer [Jeffrey] to mortal combat. If this example becomes prevalent, our periodical censors must be dipped in the river Styx: for what else can secure them from the numerous host of their enraged assailants? In truth, dear Clare, in fancy's flight I think I said 't would be your fate May regal smiles attend you! Yet since in danger courts abound, From snares may saints preserve you But those who best deserve you! Not for a moment may you stray O'er roses may your footsteps move, Oh! if you wish that happiness Your coming days and years may bless, And virtues crown your brow; Be still as you were wont to be, Be still as you are now.* *"Of all I have ever known, Clare has always been the least |