Poems on Several Occasions [by Mary Barber] |
An Apology to the Earl of Orrery,
Dr. Swift, and some others of my Friends,
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Poems on Several Occasions | ||
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An Apology to the Earl of Orrery, Dr. Swift, and some others of my Friends,
for falling into Tears before them, on my leaving Ireland.
Not Persia's Monarch could, unmov'd, surveyThose num'rous Hosts, which Time must sweep away:
He wept Misfortunes of a distant Date;
I mourn the Rigour of my instant Fate:
The dreaded Hour approaching fast I see,
When you, alas! will all be dead to me.
Then cease to wonder, if my Bosom rise,
And Tears, unbidden, rush into my Eyes;
'Tis thus, and only thus, a grateful Breast
Pours out those Thanks, which cannot be express'd:
For, O Hibernia! when I quit thy Coast,
Such Friends I leave, as few could ever boast.
Poems on Several Occasions | ||