On Revisiting Harrow
Here once engaged the stranger's viewYoung Friendship's record simply trac'd;Few were her words,--but yet, though few,Resentment's hand the line defac'd.
Deeply she cut--but not eras'd--The characters were still so plain,That Friendship once return'd, and gaz'd,--Till Memory hail'd the words again.
Repentance plac'd them as before;Forgiveness join'd her gentle name;So fair the inscription seem'd once more,That Friendship thought it still the same.
Thus might the Record now have been;But, ah, in spite of Hope's endeavour,Or Friendship's tears, Pride rush'd between,And blotted out the line for ever.
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