Classic Poem

Exil'd the social joys of life,
I wander here forlorn,
Around me headlong torrents roar,
Nor gleams the distant morn.

Why leaps my coward heart with fear,
Tho' death besets my way?
No loving wife, no prattling babe,
Bewails my long delay.

Hackney'd in woe, my joyless youth
Dissolves in briny tears;
And withers on my downy cheek,
The bloom of boyish years.

My earliest love, my only joy,
Deserted virtue's lore;
Ingulph'd in infamy she lies,
To rise, alas! no more.

Tempests drive on, collect your rage,
Howl, genius of the storm;
Extend, ye rivers, o'er the waste;
Come, Death, in any form.

Thanks, thanks, officious pow'r! you come,
I feel thy friendly dart;
Cold chills the current of my life,
And freezes to my heart.

Farewel, thou canker of my hopes!
My ruin'd maid! adieu;
Welcome, forgetfulness of woe,
And sleep for ever new.