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　　TO MRS. F[IELD]

　　On Her Return from Gibraltar

　　Jane, you are welcome from the barren Rock,

　　And Calpe's sounding shores. Oh do not mock,

　　Now you have rais'd, our greetings; nor again

　　Ever revisit that dry nook of Spain.

　　Friends have you here, and friendships to command,

　　In merry England. Love this hearty land.

　　Ease, comfort, competence—of these possess'd,

　　Let prodigal adventurers seek the rest:

　　Dear England is as you,—a Field the Lord hath blest.

　　TO M[ARY] L[AETITIA] F[IELD]

　　(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 Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4