Classic Poem

Lost in a Prison's joyless Gloom,
Chearless and dreary as the Tomb,
Where on the Bed of Care I lay,
And wept the lonely Hours away:
When ev'ry Hope and Wish was fled
But to be numb'r'd with the Dead,
You, like the Messenger of Grace,
Spoke my despairing Soul to Peace;
Wip'd off the Tear from Sorrow's Eye,
Bid Bars, and Bolts, strong warded, fly;
Bounty, the Angel-Men revere
Wrought Miracles of Mercy there.
Say, shall those Deeds forgotten die,
Or lost in cold Oblivion lie?
May Heav'n no longer guard that Breath
You rescu'd from untimely Death,
Than Gratitude attunes my Lays
In sweetest Notes to hymn your Praise;
Nor can the Song offend the Ear,
Thus offer'd from a Soul sincere.

Enlarg'd once more, with Joy I view
The circling Sun his Course renew.
May He whose Wisdom guides the Spheres,
Proportion Blessings to thy Years;
To Thee, may rosy-bosom'd Spring,
Pleasure, and Health, and Plenty bring,
Till Time, with gentle Steps, convey
The Soul to Realms of endless Day,
Where Cherubims for Thee, with Care,
Unenvy'd deathless Wreaths prepare.
Those modest Virtues You conceal
Shall Heav'n-born Charity reveal;
And mortal Goodness, to improve,
Unite You can immortal love.

Oh, let your Gaiety excuse,
My serious melancholy Muse!
This World appears a Dream to me:
Afflictions teach Philosophy;
And thus, alone, a Christian Heart,
It's grateful Raptures can impart.