 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
101
Maria in Affliction.
The Merchant's Wealth, still floating on the Sea,
By Storms and Tempests oft is cast away;
Yet he, undaunted, can resolve again
To try his Fortune on the dang'rous Main:
He'll trust the faithless Element once more,
In hopes to raise his late exhausted Store.
Nor are his Hopes deceiv'd; auspicious Gales
With kindly Breathings swell the flying Sails:
The Winds and Waves, in gentle Union join'd,
Waft the rich Cargo to the Port assign'd.
Treasures immense his ravish'd Eyes behold,
Gay glitt'ring Gems, and precious heaps of Gold.
Thus foreign Jewels, Silks, and shining Ore,
Compensate for the Loss sustain'd before.
By Storms and Tempests oft is cast away;
Yet he, undaunted, can resolve again
To try his Fortune on the dang'rous Main:
He'll trust the faithless Element once more,
In hopes to raise his late exhausted Store.
Nor are his Hopes deceiv'd; auspicious Gales
With kindly Breathings swell the flying Sails:
The Winds and Waves, in gentle Union join'd,
Waft the rich Cargo to the Port assign'd.
Treasures immense his ravish'd Eyes behold,
Gay glitt'ring Gems, and precious heaps of Gold.
102
Compensate for the Loss sustain'd before.
But I, unhappy, see no Prospect near,
To give me Hope and dissipate my Fear.
Plac'd in Affliction's Vale, what Tongue can tell
The painful Anguish I am doom'd to feel?
Remov'd from ev'ry Joy, depriv'd of all
That I could Fair, or Good, or Pleasant call.
Ah! who can guess the Torments which I bear,
Amidst the horrid Regions of Despair?
To give me Hope and dissipate my Fear.
Plac'd in Affliction's Vale, what Tongue can tell
The painful Anguish I am doom'd to feel?
Remov'd from ev'ry Joy, depriv'd of all
That I could Fair, or Good, or Pleasant call.
Ah! who can guess the Torments which I bear,
Amidst the horrid Regions of Despair?
The Pen, I thought, might yield me some Relief,
And by discharging it, allay my Grief.
Vainly I thought: for it can never free,
Or paint the Mis'ry of a Wretch like me.
For soon as Fate brings one Misfortune forth,
Another is conceiv'd, and ripe for Birth.
The Years, on which my largest Hopes were plac'd,
Drew near, then came, and like the former pass'd.
And by discharging it, allay my Grief.
Vainly I thought: for it can never free,
Or paint the Mis'ry of a Wretch like me.
103
Another is conceiv'd, and ripe for Birth.
The Years, on which my largest Hopes were plac'd,
Drew near, then came, and like the former pass'd.
Long have I waited for Redress in vain,
Encreasing Hours but aggravate my Pain.
The Sun his annual Course complete has made,
And Cynthia oft receiv'd his friendly Aid.
Their swift and radiant Journies practis'd o'er,
Add to the Pressure, which I felt before.
Thro' each appointed Sign by Turns they go,
And circling bring another Round of Woe.
Encreasing Hours but aggravate my Pain.
The Sun his annual Course complete has made,
And Cynthia oft receiv'd his friendly Aid.
Their swift and radiant Journies practis'd o'er,
Add to the Pressure, which I felt before.
Thro' each appointed Sign by Turns they go,
And circling bring another Round of Woe.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |