B. IV.
Preserving HEALTH.
109
Sour Melancholy, night and day provokes
Her own eternal wound. The sun grows pale;
95A mournful visionary light o'erspreads
The chearful face of nature: earth becomes
A dreary desart, and heaven frowns above.
Then various shapes of curs'd illusion rise;
Whate'er the wretched fears, creating Fear
100Forms out of nothing; and with monsters teems
Unknown in hell. The prostrate soul beneath
A load of huge imagination heaves.
And all the horrors, that the guilty feel,
With anxious flutterings wake the guiltless breast.
105Such phantoms Pride in solitary scenes,
Or Fear, on delicate Self-love creates.
From other cares absolv'd, the busy mind
Finds in yourself a theme to pore upon;
It finds you miserable, or makes you so.
For
