WITH way-worn feet, a pilgrim woe-begone.
Life's upward road I journeyed many a day,
And hymning many a sad yet soothing lay
Beguiled my wandering with the charms of song.
Lonely my heart, and rugged was my way,
Yet often plucked I, as I passed along,
The wild and simple flowers of Poesy;
And as beseemed the wayward Fancy's child,
Entwined each ramdom weed that pleased mine eye.
Accept the wreath, BELOVED! it is wild
And rudely garlanded; yet scorn not thou The humble offering, where the sad rue weaves 'Mid gayer flowers its intermingled leaves,
And I have twined the myrtle for thy brow.