Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

105. Despondency: An Ode

 OPPRESS’D with grief, oppress’d with care,
A burden more than I can bear,
 I set me down and sigh;
O life! thou art a galling load,
Along a rough, a weary road,
 To wretches such as I!
Dim backward as I cast my view,
 What sick’ning scenes appear!
What sorrows yet may pierce me through,
 Too justly I may fear!
 Still caring, despairing,
 Must be my bitter doom;
 My woes here shall close ne’er
 But with the closing tomb!

Happy! ye sons of busy life,
Who, equal to the bustling strife,
 No other view regard!
Ev’n when the wished end’s denied,
Yet while the busy means are plied,
 They bring their own reward:
Whilst I, a hope-abandon’d wight,
 Unfitted with an aim,
Meet ev’ry sad returning night,
 And joyless morn the same!
 You, bustling, and justling,
 Forget each grief and pain;
 I, listless, yet restless,
 Find ev’ry prospect vain.
How blest the solitary’s lot, Who, all-forgetting, all forgot, Within his humble cell, The cavern, wild with tangling roots, Sits o’er his newly gather’d fruits, Beside his crystal well! Or haply, to his ev’ning thought, By unfrequented stream, The ways of men are distant brought, A faint, collected dream; While praising, and raising His thoughts to heav’n on high, As wand’ring, meand’ring, He views the solemn sky.
Than I, no lonely hermit plac’d Where never human footstep trac’d, Less fit to play the part, The lucky moment to improve, And just to stop, and just to move, With self-respecting art: But ah! those pleasures, loves, and joys, Which I too keenly taste, The solitary can despise, Can want, and yet be blest! He needs not, he heeds not, Or human love or hate; Whilst I here must cry here At perfidy ingrate! O, enviable, early days, When dancing thoughtless pleasure’s maze, To care, to guilt unknown! How ill exchang’d for riper times, To feel the follies, or the crimes, Of others, or my own! Ye tiny elves that guiltless sport, Like linnets in the bush, Ye little know the ills ye court, When manhood is your wish! The losses, the crosses, That active man engage; The fears all, the tears all, Of dim declining age!

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - 105. Despondency: An OdeEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

Top Robert Burns Poems

Analysis and Comments on 105. Despondency: An Ode

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem 105. Despondency: An Ode here.