Classic Poem

While some, in all the luxury of health,
The price of pleasure, and the pomp of wealth,
Inglorious, rous'd at passion's frantic call,
Soak o'er the bowl, or madden at the ball,
Triumph illiberal o'er the simple maid,
By love, or promise, to their arms betray'd;
Some painted trifle with anxiety chase,
Or wallow fulsome in the lewd embrace,
By foul debauch and worthless feats secure,
Remorse vindictive in the sober hour.
The grave associate of the good and sage,
Or nerv'd with youth, or silver'd o'er with age;
Thro' giddy life YOU urge your steady way,
While conscience cheers the night and glads the day;
In vain affail the vanities of youth,
You mark their progress, and you check their growth,
From learning all its formal pride remove,
Guard cheating friendship, fetter stubborn love.
O! could I thus th' impetuous passions crush,
Stifle the sigh, and curb the secret wish;
By reason's sway this love of self controul,
This blaze of youth, and impotence of soul;
Repress the frothy insolence of fame,
The sigh that heaves for an immortal name;
I would not restless, midnight vigils keep,
Nor from my pillow drive incroaching sleep;
To the tenth stanza elegies prolong,
Nor clothe my woe in all the pomp of song;
With joyless step an airy prize pursue,
Which mocks my grasp, yet glitters in my view;
Admire a virgin whom I see no more,
Hills rise between us, and deep waters roar,
And worse than streams and mountains still divide,
The daughter's piety, and the father's pride.