On The Reception Of A Letter. I Would Love To Have Thee Near Me, But When I Think How Drear Is Each Hope That Used To Cheer Me, I Cease To Wish Thee Here. I Know That Thou, Wouldst Not Shrink From The Storms That Burst On Me, But The Bitter Chalice I Drink From, I Will Not Pass To Thee. I Would Share The World With Thee, Were It With All Its Pleasures Mine, But The Sorrows Which I Inherit, I Never Will Make Thine!