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TO MR. AND MRS. DROUGHT.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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TO MR. AND MRS. DROUGHT.

Six years, my Friends, you tell me, you've been wed;
And yet, so smoothly those six years have fled,
That this fair morn seems but your bridal day!
On Love's own wings must they have pass'd away.
Thrice happy Pair! to those who live in strife,
Six years would seem a long and luckless life!
Cupid and Hymen seldom keep together
But just in pairing-time, while full in feather;

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The first a bird of passage, like the swallow;
To spend a summer month the last will follow;
Then leaves poor Hy. to winter and grow old;
His torch blown out with sighs, himself quite cold.
But both the gods—Ah, bliss bestow'd on few!—
Agree to take up their abode with you;
By their own almanack—oh, happy fate!—
Have taught you both the time to calculate;
Count days but minutes—minutes, that appear
Too swift to roll away the blithesome year.
O blest Arithmetic! and be it yours,
While all that sweetens time below endures!
Such be your happy Reck'ning, till you prove
Bliss beyond measure in the realms above!
Claines, near Worcester, March 5, 1802.