On Revisiting Harrow

Here once engaged the stranger's view

Young Friendship's record simply trac'd;

Few were her words,--but yet, though few,

Resentment's hand the line defac'd.

Deeply she cut--but not eras'd--

The characters were still so plain,

That Friendship once return'd, and gaz'd,--

Till Memory hail'd the words again.

Repentance plac'd them as before;

Forgiveness join'd her gentle name;

So fair the inscription seem'd once more,

That Friendship thought it still the same.

Thus might the Record now have been;

But, ah, in spite of Hope's endeavour,

Or Friendship's tears, Pride rush'd between,

And blotted out the line for ever.