To My Sister Ogle

When, dear Teresa, shall I be
By Heaven again restored to you?
Thus, if once more your face I see,
Thus our lost pleasures we'll renew.

Our yesterday, when kindly past,
Shall teach how this should be enjoyed,
And urge to-morrow's eager haste,
As longing to be thus employed.

Time shall pay back the years and hours
That in our absence posted by;
Time shall submit to friendship's powers,
And, as we please, shall rest or fly.

The sun that stood to look on war,
And lengthened out that fatal day,
For kindness more engaging far,
Will longer, sure, his fall delay.

At last, when fate the word shall give,
That we no longer here below
This soft, endearing life shall live,
In triumph we'll together go.

New arts to find, new joys to try,
The height of friendship to improve;
'Tis worth our pains, and fears to die,
To learn new mysteries of love.
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