Classic Poem

Accept th' effusion of a faithful heart,
Replete with gratitude, devoid of art;
Nor thou disdain the tributary tear
Which flows from Friendship's eye, with love sincere.
Ah! what avails this energy of grief!
Where, my Constantia, is the wish'd relief?
Oh! deign to listen to my ardent pray'r,
That thou the best of Heaven's gifts may share!
To add a zest to all thy other joys.
May health be thine; the want of which destroys
All earthly bliss, and ev'ry good annoys.
From thee, no flatt'ring hopes I need conceal;
To thee, securely, may my sears reveal.
To paris superior I make no pretence,
Virtue my only boast, and common sense.
Denied external charms, my better part
Lies deep conceal'd; the rectitude of heart;
Which common forms disdains, that tend to cheat
The human judgment, and fair truth defeat.
No guide but Prudence, to direct, and steer
My course thro' life, her precepts I revere.
Directed thus by her unerring laws,
My actions oft acquire deserv'd applause;
Or, if they ne'er receive the tribute due,
Unweaned, I will still her paths pursue.
The joys of Life, like blossoms nipt by Frost,
Deceive my views, and ere I grasp are lost.
Yet Hope still beams upon my drooping mind;
The only ray-of comfort I can find,
To cheer my passage thro' this vale of care,
Remove my doubts, and dissipate despair,
Oh Hope! thou emanation from above,
I seel thy cheering beams, and gracious love.
Firm Faith and Charity, with thee combin'd,
In holy unison, direct the mind.
Faith whispers peace to the afflicted breast,
Sweet harbinger of joy, and tranquil rest;
Renews its trust in God, whose pow'rful arm,
Can Malice, and our secret foes disarm.
Whose word can still the raging of the Sea,
Relieve th' oppress'd, and set the pris'ner free.
Alas, Constantia! little it avails
Whether our present hope succeeds or fails.
A suture state will reconcile our fears,
Dispel our doubts, anxieties, and tears.
Whence then does Death in horrid forms appear,
And cast around such wild terrific fear?
Each human ill his edicts can assuage,
Disarm the Tyrant, and subdue his rage;
What tho' his arm be rais'd to strike the blow,
And unrelenting, his sharp arrows throw?
Tho' fatally transfixt within the heart,
Whence the regret from earthly pain to part?
'Tis but his ministry to break the chain
Which close confines us to this World of pain.
When we behold the space where Heroes lie,
We pay the tribute of a tear, or sigh;
Yet with the prospect ceases the regret,
Tho' all must pay th' inevitable debt.
Say, dear Constantia, if th' engaging ties
Of social duties, which the vain despise,
Extend our prospects to th' expansive bound,
Where mutual love, and innocence are found?
Rich in the gifts which Fortune cannot shake,
An union permanent, no storms can break.
A Parent, whose diffusive, tender heart,
Would, for her friend, with ev'ry blessing part;
She who will praise, where praise seems scarcely due,
And bring forth latent worth, to public view;
She who relunctantly would speak to blame,
Who rather seeks to spread deserved fame;
She who in Charity with all men lives,
Grateful receives, as cheerfully she gives.
Her tenderness may filial love repay,
And shine resplendent to her latest day!
May Love, cemented by its strongest bands,
Unite our hearts, and ever join our hands!
In ev'ry state let this desire be mine,
To taste of Friendship, as sincere as thine!