University of Virginia Library

[Doom'd, as I am, in solitude to waste]

Doom'd, as I am, in solitude to waste
The present moments, and regret the past;
Depriv'd of every joy, I valued most,
My Friend torn from me, and my Mistress lost;
Call not this gloom, I wear, this anxious mien,
The dull effect of humour, or of spleen!
Still, still, I mourn, with each returning day,
Him snatch'd by Fate, in early youth, away.
And Her—thro' tedious years of doubt and pain,
Fix'd in her choice, and faithful—but in vain!
O prone to pity, generous, and sincere,
Whose eye ne'er yet refused the wretch a tear;
Whose heart the real claim of friendship knows,
Nor thinks a lover's are but fancied woes;
See me—ere yet my destin'd course half done,
Cast forth a wand'rer on a wild unknown!
See me neglected on the world's rude coast,
Each dear companion of my voyage lost!
Nor ask why clouds of sorrow shade my brow!
And ready tears wait only leave to flow!
Why all, that sooths a heart, from anguish free,
All that delights the happy—palls with me!

[The straw-stuff'd hamper with his ruthless steel]

The straw-stuff'd hamper with his ruthless steel
He open'd, cutting sheer th'inserted cords
Which bound the lid and lip secure. Forth came
The rustling package first, bright straw of wheat,
Or oats, or barley: next a bottle green
Throat-full, clear spirits the contents, distill'd
Drop after drop odorous, by the art
Of the fair Mother of his friend,—the Rose.

[Could Homer come himself, distress'd and poor]

Could Homer come himself, distress'd and poor
And tune his harp at Rhedicina's door,
The rich old Vixen would exclaim (I fear)
“Begone! no tramper gets a farthing here.”