Lucretia Maria Davidson


Pleasure


  (Written in her thirteenth year)

Away! unstable, fleeting Pleasure,
Thou troublesome and golided treasure;
When the false jewel changes hue,
There's naught, O man, that's left for you!
What many grasp at with such joy,
Is but her shade, a foolish toy;
She is not found at every court,
At every ball, and every sport,
But in that heart she loves to rest,
That's with a guiltless conscience blest.






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