(Mary Robinson)


What is this world?thy school, O misery!
Our only lesson is to learn to suffer. 


LOVE, thou sportive fickle boy, 
Source of anguish, child of joy, 
Ever woundingever smiling, 
Soothing still, and still beguiling; 
What are all thy boasted treasures, 
Tender sorrows, transient pleasures? 
Anxious hopes, and jealous fears, 

What is FRIENDSHIPS soothing name?
But a shadwy, vaprish flame; 
Fancys balm for evry wound, 
Ever sought, but rarely found; 
What is BEAUTY ? but a flowr, 
Blooming, fading in an hour; 
Deckd with brightest tints at morn, 
At twilight withring on a thorn; 
Like the gentle Rose of spring, 
Chilld by evry zephyrs wing, 
Ah! how soon its colour flies, 
Blushes, trembles, falls, and dies. 

What is YOUTH ? a smiling sorrow, 
Blithe to day, and sad to-morrow; 
Never fixd, for ever ranging, 
Laughing, weeping, doating, changing; 
Wild, capricious, giddy, vain, 
Cloyd with pleasure, nursd with pain; 
AGE steals on with wintry face, 
Evry raptrous Hope to chase; 
Like a witherd, sapless tree, 
Bowd to chilling Fates decree; 
Stripd of all its foliage gay, 
Drooping at the close of day; 
What of tedious Life remains? 
Keen regrets and cureless pains; 
Till DEATH appears, a welcome friend, 
To bid the scene of sorrow end.

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