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    Midst horrors wild and strange,
    Dost thou delight to range,
And plunge to misery's deepest depths thy way;
    And brood o'er dismal care,
    Portending wild despair,
Where ghastly visions gloomily dismay?

    For this art hither come,
    Far from thine ancient home,
The noble, wise, and philosophic realm;
    Dost quit all thou shouldst prize,
    Leave the ethereal skies,
To trace this drear domain, that sorrows overwhelm?

    Thou foe of the distressed,
    And torturer of the breast,
That thus usurp'st the hours to slumber given,
    Bid'st the pale victim lie,
    With haggard, unclosed eye,
And the sunk heart by keenest anguish riven;

    Far, far from hence, begone!
    Nor ever doom to mourn;
Leave, leave the lonely hours to calm repose;
    The agonizing brain
    Needs not thy keener pain,
Nor thy remediless, augmenting woes.