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Poem by Mary Robinson
”What is this world?thy school, O misery! ”Our only lesson is to learn to suffer.” - YOUNG. 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, LAUGHING HOURS, and MOURNING YEARS. What is FRIENDSHIP’S soothing name? But a shad’wy, vap’rish flame; Fancy’s balm for ev’ry wound, Ever sought, but rarely found; What is BEAUTY ? but a flow’r, Blooming, fading in an hour; Deck’d with brightest tints at morn, At twilight with’ring on a thorn; Like the gentle Rose of spring, Chill’d by ev’ry zephyr’s 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 fix’d, for ever ranging, Laughing, weeping, doating, changing; Wild, capricious, giddy, vain, Cloy’d with pleasure, nurs’d with pain; AGE steals on with wint’ry face, Ev’ry rapt’rous Hope to chase; Like a wither’d, sapless tree, Bow’d to chilling Fate’s decree; Strip’d 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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