Before this perfect bloom appears.

_Thoughts_ of fondness and of pride,
_Love-vanities_ we need not hide;
_Heart-blossoms_, in its crimson dyed,
For you, are here together tied.

And yet they all appear too poor,
Though goodness can ensure no more;
Though monarchs, whom the world adore,
Would purchase such with all their store.

And while this charmed gift we send,
We know where'er your footsteps bend,
The looks and tones that win the friend,
That kindness, nature, truth, attend,

Are yours, and must be with you still,
Angelic guards, go where they will,
To ward off much surrounding ill,
And happiest destinies fulfil.




XVIII.


_Written jointly with a particular Friend, after a conversation
similar to the subject, with the Damon of the Story_.