Classic Poem

WHEN thought is brooding o'er the past,
And the new day is wish'd the last,
My fainting spirits what can raise?—
A curricle and pair of greys.

When Fancy nods, and sleepy dews
The corresponding rhymes infuse,
What gives the neat and pointed phrase?—
A curricle and pair of greys.

When love to sentiments confin'd
Is rather delicate than blind,
The romping impulse what can raise?
A curricle and pair of greys.

When Taste, examining the scene,
Dissects the shade or verdant green,
What prompts the word that gives the bays?
A curricle and pair of greys?

When haggard age, with feet of snow,
Begins her spiteful marks to show,
What spell recalls the youthful days?
A curricle and pair of greys.