Lines Written on a Blank Leaf of the Pleasures of Memory
Absent or present, still to thee,My friend, what magic spells belong!As all can tell, who share, like me,In turn thy converse, and thy song.
But when the dreaded hour shall comeBy Friendship ever deemed too nigh,And "Memory" o'er her Druid's tombShall weep that aught of thee can die,
How fondly will she then repayThy homage offered at her shrine,And blend, while ages roll away,Her name immortally with thine!
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