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Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe.
Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the flattering Foe;
By vain Prosperity received
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Wisdom in sable garb array'd
Immersed in rapturous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid,
With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend :
Warm Charity, the general friend,
With Justice, to herself severe,
And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.
O, gently on thy suppliant's head
Dread Goddess, lay thy chastening hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Not circled with the vengeful band
(As by the impious thou art seen)
With thundering voice, and threatening mien,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty:
Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philosophic train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart.
What others are to feel, and know myself a Man.
THE SOLITUDE OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK
AM monarch of all I survey;
My right there is none to dispute;
I am out of humanity's reach,
Society, Friendship, and Love
O had I the wings of a dove
My sorrows I then might assuage
Religion! what treasure untold
Ye winds that have made me your sport,
How fleet is a glance of the mind!
But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
Even here is a season of rest,
And reconciles man to his lot.
TO MARY UNWIN
ARY! I want a lyre with other strings,
Such aid from heaven as some have feign'd they
An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new
That ere through age or woe I shed my wings
.But thou hast little need. There is a Book
A chronicle of actions just and bright
There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine;
TO THE SAME
HE twentieth year is well nigh past
Ah would that this might be the last!
Thy spirits have a fainter flow,
I see thee daily weaker grow
'T was my distress that brought thee low, My Mary!
Thy needles, once a shining store,
For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil
But well thou play'dst the housewife's part,
Thy indistinct expressions seem
Like language utter'd in a dream;
Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme,