ON

MELANCHOLY

I'm here confin'd in this small place,
No more abroad to rove!
My breast is fuffled by hard Fate!
I'm chain'd and cannot move!

Here no more glide the purling streams,
Which murmur'd o'er yon stones!
No more sereneness here resides;
I'm under clouds and storms!

No more those spacious buildings high,
Which tow'r up near the skies,
Can me amuse! I'm now so low,
Sleep seldom shuts mine eyes!

My high ambition now is fled;
My wealth has lost its pow'r:
All pleasure's gone, and droops its head,
And never shall rise more!

Beneath the gloomy shades of night,
I melancholy sit,
With heaving breast, and ready sigh,
My spirits dull and flat!

Far hence my laugh and smiles are gone,
And mirth that did intrude;
Far hence the cares of life are fled,
And ev'ry thing that's rude!

Vain glory and destructive strife,
That rais'd my mind too high;
Now all those phantoms they are fled,
And can no longer stay!

'Tis deep reflection now presides
O'er Wisdom's certain gain,
With Patience, that's Contentment's bride,
They'll mitigate my pain!

Warm charity for other's faults,
With heart and mind benign,
With sacred pity, heav'nly gift!
Compose my pensive mind!

O teach my heart, with thoughts sublime,
To follow Wisdom's ways;
And fly from vice, and seek some shade,
To chant o'er Virtue's praise!

O teach me riches ne'er to prize
Above their native worth!
May guilty pleasures all fly hence,
As far as South's from North!

Let me, untouch'd with brutish rage,
Unruffl'd pass my days:
And may I view this spacious Stage,
Unworthy of my praise!

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