353. Poem on Sensibility

 SENSIBILITY, how charming,
 Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell;
But distress, with horrors arming,
 Thou alas! hast known too well!


Fairest flower, behold the lily
 Blooming in the sunny ray:
Let the blast sweep o’er the valley,
 See it prostrate in the clay.


Hear the wood lark charm the forest,
 Telling o’er his little joys;
But alas! a prey the surest
 To each pirate of the skies.


Dearly bought the hidden treasure
 Finer feelings can bestow:
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe.

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