Classic Poem

Aid me Palemon, with thy Genius aid
Your Friend deserted by each tunefull Maid
Since Health withdrew in vain do I implore
And its Return their Favour can't restore.
— But oh thou mighty Maker of my Frame
To thee I owe my Life's returning Flame
And will not that extort the noblest Lays
When Inspiration's center'd in thy Praise
Let me recall thy Love, thy Grace survey
While Life flow'd fast & Pulse forgot to play
Nature with vital Pain was sore oppress'd
My Spirits sunk my Soul was quite distress'd
Then did thy pitying Eye behold my Grief
Thy Presence chear'd the Gloom & bro't relief
Thy Mandate bad my drooping Soul return
Renew'd the Torch & kindly made it burn.
Joyfull I stay thy Pleasure to fulfill
Equal is Life or Death t' obey thy Will
Accept Thou Good supreme, this Sacrifice
And let my Praise pierce thro' the azure Skies.
But Ah Palemon who can reach the Theme?
As Insects praise the Sun's refulgent Beam,
Just so Æmilia's feeble Strains rehearse
Th' Almighty's Praises in her humble Verse
And now Palemon, suffer me to chide,
Did you not say all Difference shou'd subside
Yet for one Fault you blame a faithfull Friend
Who aims to please &'s fearfull to offend
Cou'd not your Friendship some Excuses find
And not reproach me with the name — unkind
— Against me ev'ry Circumstance conspired
Dull are my Lays, Extinguish'd are my Fires
My Friend severe, apt to suspect me grown
So one Misfortune brings another on