Written at West Cowes, 1804

I N thee, Adversity, I 'm bless'd,
By thee enchanted, not oppress'd;
If all thy shafts resemble these,
Dear is their pain — their tortures please.
When last these wonders I explor'd,
My heart in vain its rod implor'd;
The vassal then of Beauty's reign,
It felt the insult of her chain,
And by caprice was kept in awe
The victim of a Tyrant's Law.
'Tis past — nor pride nor spleen remain,
Or pleasure of inflicting pain;
The heart all fetters can remove
But those which Nature puts on Love .
Young in a wedded Brother's joy,
I catch again the amorous boy;
Crown'd with his wreath, my age disown,
In his Elysium trace my own,
Wake to new life the nuptial hour,
New-trim its lamp, new-dress its bower;
My own around his blessings twine,
And proudly feel his transports mine .
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