To A Female Friend,


Lady! you ask a farewell verse;
Reluctant I obey.
Far, gladlier far, would we rehearse
Some rhyme to bid thee stay.
For, if but lately we have met,
We all shall lose thee with regret.
But if full surely thou must go
From us, who fain would keep,
May westering breezes cheerly blow,
Rewafting o'er the Deep
To where thine own dear land imparts
Its bliss of loved and loving hearts.

Of late, like some full cargoed ship,
Thy mind did voyage forth;
Transporting on no vulgar trip
Its freight of precious worth;
And bartering on, from shore to shore,
Or thought for thought, or lore for lore.
Yet tho' from Gaul and Rome's own clime
Rich memories thou hast borne
For home-reflection's after-time,
I know thou wilt not scorn
To muse erewhile on Britain's bowers;
Thy native land scarce less than ours.
Blood, that was once our English blood,
No more let seas divide.
A mightier power hath stemmed the flood,
The old Atlantic tide;

And wide and wider hence shall roll
The glorious traffic—soul with soul.
Lady! not easily withstood!
Thy frolic wish is won;
And, if in somewhat pensive mood,
Behold five stanzas done.
But, Lady! only come agen,
For stanzas five—we'll write thee ten.