Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/399

 Well, hearts must yield to beauty rare, And proud-souled friendship hardly dare Contest the prize with woman!

Old friend, adieu! I blame thee not, Since fair guest fills thy bosom— Thy smiling love may flattered be Our bonds to know, and feel that she The pow'r had to unloose them!

Since thou surrenderest all for her, May she, with faith unshaken, Place every thought on thee alone, While he who Friendship's dream hath known, Must from that dream awaken!