Where is my friend? I languish here--
Where is my own sweet friend?
With all those looks of love so dear,
Where grace and beauty blend!
I miss those social _winter_ hours
With her I used to spend,
Now cheerless are my _summer bowers_--
Where is my own lov'd friend?
Our sweetest joys, like flowers may rise,
And all their fragrance lend,
Yet my sick heart within me dies--
Where is my own sweet friend?
The winding brooks, like distant lute,
Their murmuring whispers send;
The echoes of my soul are mute--
Where is my own dear _friend_?