XXXII.

"Yet leave me not. I would allay that grief, Which else might thy young virtue overpower; And in thy converse I shall find relief; When the dark shades of melancholy lower; For solitude has many a dreary hour, Even when exempt from grief, remorse, and pain: Come often then; for, haply, in my bower, Amusement, knowledge, wisdom thou may'st gain: If I one soul improve, I have not liv'd in vain."