ASSOCIATIONS.

As o'er these hills I take my silent rounds,

Still on that vision which is flown I dwell,

On images I loved, alas, too well!

Now past, and but remembered like sweet sounds

Of yesterday! Yet in my breast I keep

Such recollections, painful though they seem,

And hours of joy retrace, till from my dream

I start, and find them not; then I could weep

To think how Fortune blights the fairest flowers;

To think how soon life's first endearments fail,

And we are still misled by Hope's smooth tale,

Who, like a flatterer, when the happiest hours

Pass, and when most we call on her to stay,

Will fly, as faithless and as fleet as they!