Long left unwounded by the grisly foe,
Who sometime pierces all with fatal shaft,
Still on my cheek fresh youth did lively glow,
And at his threatening arrow gaily laught;
Came then my friendly scholar, and we quaffed
From learning's spring, its sparkling overflow;
All through the lingering evening's charm├Ęd hours,
Delightful fellowship in thought was ours:
If I from Poesy could not all abstain,
He my poor verses oft did quite undress,
New wrapt in words my thought's veiled nakedness,
Or kindly clipt my steed's luxuriant mane:
'Twas my delight his searching eye to meet,
In days of genial versing, memories sweet.

More verses by Amos Bronson Alcott

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