Miscellanies in Verse and Prose :: :: University of Virginia Library

When Campbell, on the Banks of Thames,
Mixt with the Beaus and shining Dames,
The sweet Variety you prove
Of Wit, and Wine, and happy Love;
Reflect a little on this Scene,
The Seat of Poverty and Spleen;
And while gay Pleasure fills your Mind,
Pity those Friends you left behind,
Who, banish'd from the Fair and Young,
Must live unblest, and dye unsung.

In vain kind Nature would employ
Her baffled Aid to give me Joy:
In vain each Pulse proclaims aloud,
The gen'rous Fire that warms my Blood:

To Rocks, alas! or desart Plains,
(Far from the Nymphs and tuneful Swains)
Confin'd, I mourn my Vigor lost,
By Love forsook, by Fortune cross'd.
No Verdant Beauty cheers my Sight;
No feather'd Quires my Ear delight;
No Park, nor Play, nor fond Amour,
Amuse one tedious lonesome Hour;
But the same Round stills wears away,
In Sleep the Night, in Sloth the Day.

How partial is the Hand of Fate,
Who roul in Wealth, and ride in State;
See we not some, like Insects born,
Our Sex Disgrace, the other's Scorn,
Yet favour'd by capricious Chance,
By Springs unseen their Steps advance;
Mount to the Top of Fortune's Wheel,
Made happy ev'n against their Will?
While the brave Youth, whose Counsels aim
By vertuous Acts to merit Fame,

In fruitless Toils consumes his Days,
And neither meets Reward or Praise.
Others, whom Beauty's Pow'r controuls,
Form'd with soft-impassion'd Souls,
(And oh my Heart is tend'rer far
Than Sighs of pitying Virgins are)
Address in vain the cruel Boy;
Feel all his Pains, nor taste the Joy.
The Gods of their own Bliss secure,
Neglect the Ills which we endure.

If all our Piety's not vain;
If long Intreaty Heav'n can gain;
E'er yet my Noon of Life be past,
E'er gath'ring Clouds my Sun o'ercast,
Let me, ye Pow'rs! successful prove
In my Ambition, and my Love.
My Active, Restless, Fiery Mind,
Can ill submit to be confin'd:
Urg'd by Desires perhaps too great,
I fain, methinks, would tempt my Fate:

But if the Spear, and cumbrous Shield
Too weighty are for me to wield;
If shut out from the Lists of Fame,
I'm doom'd to live without a Name:
Grant me, at least, This one Request,
(And that, alone, will make me Blest)
Redeem me from a long Despair,
And make my Charmer Kind, as Fair.