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.