ODE VII.

TO ANTHONY DEANE, OF BATH, SOMERSETSHIRE; FORMERLY OF EAST BERGHOLT, SUFFOLK; AFTER A TRANSIENT VISIT TO HIM AT BATH, AND MANY YEARS SEPARATION .

I.

D EANE , many a circling year has fled;
For hours and days and months are quickly past;
And man, frail man, lies feverish down at last,
And earth becomes his latest bed.
Yes! many a year has sped away,
Since, friend, thine hospitable dome,
As lightly pass'd the social day, — —
Was made thy fickle minstrels peaceful home.

II.

Ah! Time has wings — but Memory lives;
As yon fair moon succeeds the golden sun,
Silvering with borrow'd light the mountain dun,
And thro' the night meek lustre sheds.
So memory, by the reflex light
Of generous deeds, that friendship rears,
Keeps the fair prospect long in sight,
Tho' veil'd behind the tints of mellowing years.

III.

She now recalls thy partner's name,
In worth a spotless, as of wisdom rare,
Whose friendship soften'd many a secret care,
And rais'd to health my sickly frame.
Thy little ones still laughing round,
I seem to share the playful day,
Now lightly trip the fairy ground,
Now for D IONE crop the flowery May.

IV.

Yet I nor Bergholt-park or grove,
Yet I nor on the banks of gentle Stour , —
May wander more, nor wait the lingering hour,
With Dedham's frolic tribes to rove.
My friend, as up life's steep we go,
Be ours to gaze th' horizon round;
And, if the present ills abound,
To muse on bliss we left too far below.