To M[ary] L[aetitia] F[ield]

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Title:     To M[ary] L[aetitia] F[ield]
Author: Charles Lamb [More Titles by Lamb]

(_Expecting to See Her Again after a Long Interval_)

How many wasting, many wasted years,
Have run their round, since I beheld your face!
In Memory's dim eye it yet appears
Crowned, as it _then_ seemed, with a chearful grace.
Young prattling Maiden, on the Thames' fair side,
Enlivening pleasant Sunbury with your smiles,
Time may have changed you: coy reserve, or pride,
To sullen looks reduced those mirthful wiles.
I will not 'bate one smile on that clear brow,
But take of Time a rigorous account,
When next I see you; and Maria now
Must _be_ the Thing she _was_. To what amount
These verses else?--all hollow and untrue--
This was not writ, these lines not meant, for YOU.

[The end]
Charles Lamb's poem: To M[ary] L[aetitia] F[ield]

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