Lines to W. L.

While my young cheek retains its healthful hues,

       &nbspAnd I have many friends who hold me dear,

       &nbspL——! methinks, I would not often hear

Such melodies as thine, lest I should lose

All memory of the wrongs and sore distress

       &nbspFor which my miserable brethren weep!

       &nbspBut should uncomforted misfortunes steep

My daily bread in tears and bitterness;

And if at Death's dread moment I should lie

       &nbspWith no belovéd face at my bed-side,

To fix the last glance of my closing eye,

       &nbspMethinks such strains, breathed by my angel-guide,

Would make me pass the cup of anguish by,

       &nbspMix with the blest, nor know that I had died!