Poems on various subjects :: :: University of Virginia Library

I'm a man—and have feelings as well as the great,
And those feelings I never will flee,
Tho' recreant Vice, with proud trappings of state,
Bid Shame wait on Virtue and Me.
Tho' while all were indulging in revels and mirth,
I alone were unconscious of Rest,—
Yet still would I prize while I roam o'er the earth,
Virtue's sovereign Gem of the breast.

While I toil thro' the days' chearless wearisome length
The child of Misfortune and Pain,
While I, inoffensive am wearying my strength,
And subsistence can hardly obtain;
There are miscreants unworthy to rank with a man,
By Flattery and Fortune caress'd,
Yet still will I keep, tho' they blaze for a span,
Virtue's sovereign Gem of the breast.

I'm worn out with labour, and sinking with age,
And have no where to shelter my head,

And seldom the cravings of Nature to assuage,
Can insure the poor pittance of bread.
Mean while the Ambitious, the Vile, and Ingrate,
To Plenty add Luxury's zest!—
But they know not like me, and I'll pity their fate,
Virtue's sovereign Gem of the breast.

Thro' my worn feeble frame, naked, shrivell'd, and old,
When the pitiless tempest begun,
Thro' my half-nourish'd veins, unprotected and cold,
Oft a death-boding tremor has run.
Yet I mark oft the active, the vigorous, and young,
With Profusion and Indolence blest,—
But they feel not the pleasures to thee that belong,—
Thou sovereign Gem of the breast!

I'm despis'd, and I'm treated as worse than a slave,
Condem'd to the lash of Disgrace;
I have no gentle friend who shall weep at my grave,
For living I'm dead to my race.
Yet I am a man, and the wretch is no more,
Whose Name lifts him far from the oppress'd,
Vain title!—For Ancestry ne'er can insure
The sovereign Gem of the breast.

When all my afflictions are fled with my breath,
And the throbs of Misfortune shall cease;
When the toils of Life's journey are over in death,
And I'm laid on the pillow of Peace.
Then Vice, tho' my green turf he scornfully tread,
My rights shall no longer contest
For I'll claim in the skies the well-merited mee'd,
And boast—the bright Gem of my breast.