To thee, the guardian of my youthful days, Fain would I pay some tribute of respect; And though it falls far short of thy desert, The will to do thee justice thou'lt accept. ...
My very dear friend Should never depend Upon anything clever or witty, From a poor country wight When attempting to write, To one in your far famous city. Indeed I'm inclined,...
When days are dark and spirits low, And hope desponding stands, What comfort these few words bestow, "My times are in thy hands." That thought should every fear allay, And every cloud dispel;...