Lines On The Death Of Sir William Russel.

Doomd, as I am, in solitude to waste     The present moments, and regret the past;     Deprived of every joy I valued most,     My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost;     Call not this gloom I wear, this anxious mien,     The dull effect of humour, or of spleen!     Still, still I mourn, with each returning day,     Him[1] snatchd by fate in early youth away;     And herthro tedious years of doubt and pain,     Fixd in her choice, and faithfulbut in vain!     O prone to pity, generous, and sincere,     Whose eye neer yet refused the wretch a tear;     Whose heart the real claim of friendship knows;     Nor thinks a lovers are but fancied woes;     See meere yet my destined course half done,     Cast forth a wandrer on a world unknown!     See me neglected on the worlds rude coast,     Each dear companion of my voyage lost!     Nor ask why clouds of sorrow shade my brow,     And ready tears wait only leave to flow!     Why all that soothes a heart from anguish free,     All that delights the happypalls with me!