With a Present

Let not the hand of Amity be mce!
Nor the poor tribute from the heart disclaim;
A trifle shall become a pledge of price,
If Friendship stamps it with her sacred name.

The little rose that laughs upon its stem,
One of the sweets with which the gardens teem,
In value soars above an eastern gem,
If tender'd as the token of esteem.

Had I vast hoards of massy wealth to send,
Such as your merits might demand — their due!
Then should the golden tribute of your friend
Rival the treasures of the rich Peru.