Classic Poem

O FRIEND ! when laughing skies and Zephyrs call,
Forbear in towns the blooming hour to lose;
Nor Nature's pure and simple charms refuse,
For costly banquets, or the midnight ball.
Yet here no stately tow'rs, no storied hall,
But twilight groves, where roaming bards may muse,
Fair sunny hills, and fields of various hues,
And streams that down the sloping valley fall,
From Earth to Heav'n the soaring spirit raise:
And the sweet love-lorn Bird, that all night long
In shadowy thickets pours the plaintive strain,
Melts the warm soul to passion with her song:
Yet poor these charms, and dim the smiling days,
While far my Friend's enliv'ning looks remain.