Page:Poems - Lewis (1812).djvu/86

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POEMS.

ON SORROW.

[WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF A MUCH-VALUED FEMALE FRIEND.]

Yes! I'll away, and seek that kind relief,Which rural scenes and Nature's smiles impart:I am not of their kind, who cherish grief,And love to fold it to a bleeding heart.
Deep is my wound! No time can e'er effaceThe lines by anguish on my soul imprest;But shall I strengthen still each painful trace,And drive the poniard further in my breast?
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