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 lived in vain.'