Classic Poem

Fate, when you forc'd me from the weeping maid,
Patient I boare it, nor did once repine;
" Altho' depriv'd of love's solace, (I said),
The sacred joys of friendship shall be mine.

Above each trifling wish, each low concern,
In peaceful solitude's untrodden path,
With virtuous D AMON wisdom's ways I'll learn,
And coolly wait the timely stroke of death. "


" Grant, while I live, the converse of my friend,
And, O, be few the days I'm doom'd to live. " —
Such was my pray'r, in lowliness of mind,
No greater boon I ask'd the gods to give.

In vain I pray'd, my woes were not compleat,
Nor yet the cup of misery was crown'd;
Poverty lurk'd in solitude's retreat,
And push'd me, ling'ring, from the hallow'd ground,



Where shall I wander? to what distant shore,
Where friendship's heav'nly radiance never shone,
Carry this woe-worn carcase; never more
To feel it's influence as I have done?

What generous hand will point me out the dome
Where independence and each virtue dwell?
Thro' I NDIA 's sultry regions shall I roam,
Or cow'r contented in the hermit's cell?

Vain is the search: for, who will condescend
To guide the wand'rings of a wretch so mean!
Restore, kind heav'n! my best, my only friend,
And let want sweep me from the puzzling scene.