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When friends,—whom health and social converse bless,
To whom sweet sleep returns at wonted hours,
Their minds releases from all active thought,
Soothes and supports with her nutritious balm,
And vigorous leaves to cheerful life anew,—
Find it too painful to lament their woe,
To pause and meditate their sad reverse,
The dying anguish of their nightly hours;
When tortures fierce, instead of balmy rest,
Run riot wild within their wasted forms,
And thought, combined with pain's exhausting power
Resistless pressing every care-worn nerve,
Excites the system to unknown excess,
And racks with more than mortal agony.
To whom sweet sleep returns at wonted hours,
Their minds releases from all active thought,
Soothes and supports with her nutritious balm,
And vigorous leaves to cheerful life anew,—
Find it too painful to lament their woe,
To pause and meditate their sad reverse,
The dying anguish of their nightly hours;
When tortures fierce, instead of balmy rest,
Run riot wild within their wasted forms,
And thought, combined with pain's exhausting power
Resistless pressing every care-worn nerve,
Excites the system to unknown excess,
And racks with more than mortal agony.
DESPAIR."Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye, my friends!"
Sorely my wounded spirit strives,
And struggles hard to gain
A moment's calmness to endure
Unutterable pain.
And struggles hard to gain
A moment's calmness to endure
Unutterable pain.
