contents | previous | next The beating storm, and bitter winds that howl Round thy cold breast; and hear'st the bursting waves, And the deep thunder with unshaken soul; Oh come! and shew how vain the cares that press On my weak bosom and how little worth Is the false fleeting meteor, Happiness, That still misleads the wanderers of the earth! Strength'd by thee, this heart shall cease to melt O'er ills that poor humanity must bear; Nor friends estrange'd, or ties dissolv'd be felt To leave regret, and fruitless anguish there: And when at length it heaves its latest sigh, Thou and mild hope, shall teach me how to die! |
