 | Familiar letters and poems on several occasions |  |
The Expostulation and Resolution.
Whence is the pensive Thought which thus supplies,
With ready Tears, my over-flowing Eyes?
What Cares are these my sinking Spirits press?
Why melts my Bosom with a soft Distress
Why heaves my Heart with un-accustom'd Weight,
As if it dreaded some impending Fate!
Can such Uneasiness from Friendship flow?
Can that pure Spring send forth a Stream of Woe!
That healing Pow'r, that smiling heav'nly Guest,
Which brings new Pleasures to the joyful Breast;
That Ease of Ills, Affliction's best Relief,
Which casts a Brightness o'er the Gloom of Grief.
Yet sure from hence my present Pains arise,
No perfect Bliss is found beneath the Skies;
No Happiness un-mixt, 'tis all allay'd,
As fairest Days are overcast with Shade.
Nor is it strange we here some Sorrow prove,
Since Friendship is the near Ally of Love;
Deceit in this will pierce the Heart that's kind,
And Separation wound the tender Mind.
When, but with Life, should their Complainings end,
Who mourn the Death, or Treach'ry of a Friend?
With ready Tears, my over-flowing Eyes?
What Cares are these my sinking Spirits press?
Why melts my Bosom with a soft Distress
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As if it dreaded some impending Fate!
Can such Uneasiness from Friendship flow?
Can that pure Spring send forth a Stream of Woe!
That healing Pow'r, that smiling heav'nly Guest,
Which brings new Pleasures to the joyful Breast;
That Ease of Ills, Affliction's best Relief,
Which casts a Brightness o'er the Gloom of Grief.
Yet sure from hence my present Pains arise,
No perfect Bliss is found beneath the Skies;
No Happiness un-mixt, 'tis all allay'd,
As fairest Days are overcast with Shade.
Nor is it strange we here some Sorrow prove,
Since Friendship is the near Ally of Love;
Deceit in this will pierce the Heart that's kind,
And Separation wound the tender Mind.
297
Who mourn the Death, or Treach'ry of a Friend?
But whither would my wayward Fancy rove!
Oh, why on fading Objects fix my Love?
Tho' stain'd with Falsehood, One, ungrateful, fled,
Tho' good Clemene tho' Camilla's dead;
Yet some remain, with Truth and Virtue grac'd,
In whose Esteem I still am highly plac'd;
But had they all, alike, unfaithful prov'd;
Or all had dy'd, yet why so much be mov'd?
Why for the Loss of earthly Friends repine,
So much befriended by the Pow'r Divine?
Does not my God, with kind paternal Eye,
And bounteous Hand, my ev'ry Want supply!
My Guardian, he in deepest Shades of Night,
My safe Protector in the Day's broad Light;
'Tis he bestows Health, Raiment, Food, and Friends,
And ev'ry perfect Gift from him descends.
Then far above all Creatures will I rise,
And to the great Creator lift my Eyes;
My fervent Praise shall reach his radiant Throne,
And all my Joys be fixt in him alone.
My Soul sublimer Pleasures shall receive,
Than this low World with all its Charms can give;
In calm Content Life's peaceful Hours I'll waste,
And chearfully prepare to meet the last.
Oh, why on fading Objects fix my Love?
Tho' stain'd with Falsehood, One, ungrateful, fled,
Tho' good Clemene tho' Camilla's dead;
Yet some remain, with Truth and Virtue grac'd,
In whose Esteem I still am highly plac'd;
But had they all, alike, unfaithful prov'd;
Or all had dy'd, yet why so much be mov'd?
Why for the Loss of earthly Friends repine,
So much befriended by the Pow'r Divine?
Does not my God, with kind paternal Eye,
And bounteous Hand, my ev'ry Want supply!
My Guardian, he in deepest Shades of Night,
My safe Protector in the Day's broad Light;
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And ev'ry perfect Gift from him descends.
Then far above all Creatures will I rise,
And to the great Creator lift my Eyes;
My fervent Praise shall reach his radiant Throne,
And all my Joys be fixt in him alone.
My Soul sublimer Pleasures shall receive,
Than this low World with all its Charms can give;
In calm Content Life's peaceful Hours I'll waste,
And chearfully prepare to meet the last.
| Familiar letters and poems on several occasions | |