Page:Poems (Crabbe).djvu/157

THE

 

LIBRARY.

 

 

WHEN the sad Soul, by care and grief opprest,Looks round the world, but looks in vain, for rest;When every object that appears in view,Partakes her gloom, and seems dejected too;Where shall affliction from itself retire?Where fade away, and placidly expire?Alas! we fly to silent scenes in vain,Care blasts the honours of the flow'ry plain;Care veils in clouds the sun's meridian beam,Sighs through the grove, and murmurs in the stream;For when the soul is labouring in despair,In vain the body breathes a purer air:No storm-tost sailor sighs for slumbering seas,He dreads the tempest, but invokes the breeze;$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$On the smooth mirror of the deep residesReflected woe, and o'er unruffled tidesThe ghost of every former danger glides.

N 2