“O! hast thou seen a vernal Morning bright.
Gem every bank and trembling leaf with dews,
Tinging the green fields with her amber hues,
Changing the leaden streams to lines of light?
Then seen dull Clouds, that shed untimely night,
Roll envious on, and every ray suffuse,
Till the chill’d Scenes their early beauty lose,
And faint, and colourless, no more invite.
The glistening gaze of Joy?—’Twas emblem just,
Of my youth’s sun, on which deep shadows fell,
Spread from the PALL OF FRIENDS; and Grief’s loud gust,
Resistless, oft wou’d wasted tears compel:
Yet let me hope, that on my darken’d days,
Science, and pious Trust, may shed pervading rays.” – Horace.