University of Virginia Library


284

SONNET IV.

To Mr. Crusius.
Crusius, I hop'd the little Heaven shall spare
Of my short day, which flits away so fast,
And sickness threats with clouds to over-cast,
In social converse oft with thee to share;
Ill luck for me, that wayward fate should tear
Thee from the haven, thou hadst gain'd at last,
Again to try the toils and dangers past,
In forein climates, and an hostile air;
Yet duteous to thy Country's call attend,
Which clames her portion of thy useful years;
And back with speed thy course to Britain bend:
If, e'er again we meet, perchance should end
My dark'ning Eve, Thou'lt pay some friendly tears,
Grateful to him, who liv'd and died thy friend.