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
.