To Colonel Edward Stopford

O for the friends, the few I had,
The hearts my presence once made glad!
I mourn the memory ; those are gone
And, Stopford, you remain alone.
While you look hack upon the day
You left behind the great and gay
Destin'd in Freedom's holy war
To guide the course of Bolivar,
Dozing below my Abbey's wall
I dreamt I heard a Muse's call . .

" Come with me to Pan's favorite tree,
" There is reserv'd a place for thee,
" And there, if thou wilt wait awhile,
" A Nymph may lean on thee and smile,
" Until Maeonides appear
" Bidding thee listen well, and hear
" What to fit audience thou shalt tell,
' By whom and where Pelides fell."