University of Virginia Library


207

TO A FRIEND.

The moon that proudly treads the sky,
Were doubly bright if thou wert nigh;
The breeze that murmurs on mine ear,
Were softer still, if thou wert here;
The sky would beam a lovelier blue,
If thou couldst whisper, I am true;
And thoughts of heaven bear firmer sway,
If thou shouldst point, and lead the way.