Laura Sophia Temple

On Hearing the Sound of Music at a Distance

When Music's sweet accents I hear in the breeze,
For awhile its soft language my fancy may please,
But soon on sad Memory's pinion are borne
Those far sweeter notes that can never return.

Tho' gay are the meads, and unclouded the skies,
Yet still all their charms, and their sweets I despise;
I haste from the scene with fond Mem'ry to mourn
Those far brighter hours that must never return.

All nature awakens to mirth and delight,
Young Hope spreads her visions to dazzle the sight;
Alas ! the delights that please others I spurn,
And image the joys that will never return.

When beauty and elegance court my applause,
My mind an invidious comparison draws;
No sweetness or grace in their smiles I discern
When I think of those smiles that will never return.

When I view ev'ry eye beaming joy and content,
While with keen throbs of anguish my bosom is rent,
With mad'ning sensations I feel my heart burn,
And I sigh for that peace which can never return.

Cease Mem'ry thy torturing empire to hold,
Nor shew to my view those dear moments of gold,
Oh! let me the page of forgetfulness learn,
And Joy and Contentment again may return.

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