Poem by Henry Carey

The Distracted Lover

I go to the Elysian shade
Where sorrow ne'er shall wound me;
Where nothing shall my rest invade,
But joy shall still surround me.

I fly from Celia's cold disdain,
From her disdain I fly;
She is the cause of all my pain,
For her alone I die.

Her eyes are bright than the midday sun,
When he but half his radiant course has run,
When his meridian glories gaily shine
And gild all nature with a warmth divine.

See yonder river's flowing tide,
Which now so full appears:
Those streams, that do so swiftly glide,
Are nothing but my tears.

There I have wept till I could weep no more,
And curst mine eyes, when they have wept their store;
Then, like the clouds that rob the azure main,
I've drain'd the flood to weep it back again.

Pity my pains,
Ye gentle swains!
Cover me with ice and snow,
I scorch, I burn, I flame, I glow!

Furies, tear me,
Quickly bear me
To the dismal shade below!
Where yelling and howling,
And grumbling and growling
Strike the ear with horrid woe.

Hissing snakes,
Fiery lakes
Would be a pleasure and a cure.
Not all the hells,
Where Pluto dwells,
Can give such pain as I endure.

To some peaceful plain convey me,
On a mossy carpet lay me,
Fan me with ambrosial breeze,
Let me die, and so have ease!

1. A Maiden's Ideal Husband
2. The Ballad of Sally in Our Alley
3. An Honest Yorkshireman
4. Ode to Eloquence
5. The Distress'd Father or, the Author's Tears over his Dear Daughter Rachel

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