To a FRIEND;

ON VALENTINE's DAY.

Tho' blooming shepherds hail this day
 With love, the subject of each lay,
 Yet friendship tunes my artless song,
 To thee the grateful themes belong. 

Strephon, I never will repine,
 Tho' destin'd not thy Valentine;
 O'er friendship's nobler heights we'll rove,
 Nor heed the soft'ning voice of love. 

Strangers to Passion's tyrant reign,
 Careless, we'll range the happier plain
 Where all those calmer joys we'll prove,
 Which wait sublime platonic love. 

Yet I'll allow a future day,
 When friendship must at last give way;
 When thou, forgetful, shalt resign
 The maid who wrote this Valentine. 

Think not, my friend, I dream of love,
 That with some happier maid thou'lt prove;
 Friendship alone is my design
 In this officious Valentine. 

Yet, when that victor God shall reign,
 And conquer'd Friendship quits the plain,
 This gentle whisperer captive take,
 'T will all thy former kindness wake. 

But if its pleadings you deny,
 And fain wou'd have remembrance die,
 Then to devouring flames consign
 My too ill-fated Valentine.