 | The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson |  |
WRITTEN ON THE AUTHOR'S BIRTH-DAY
FEBRUARY 1st, 1800.
With joy, how oft I hail'd my natal morn,
When sportive youth enjoy'd his fairy reign;
And long'd to mark each infant year's return,
Eager to launch into life's troublous main.
Ah! happy period, when with heart elate,
And partial eye the busy world I view'd;
Nor dreamt, while pleasure seem'd on me to wait,
My path with sorrow's night-shade would be strew'd!
Henceforth, farewell to pleasure's giddy crowd;
Ye day-dreams vain, delusive hopes, adieu;
By madd'ning passions fir'd, too long I've bow'd
A willing slave to vanity and you:
For while remembrance pauses on the past,
I tremble, lest this day should be my last.
| The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson | |