Classic Poem

As in my silent Study late I sate,
Intent on Poets poor precarious State,
Around my Sight Asudden Dimness play'd,
And ting'd the Taper with a blewy Shade;
When to my Eyes appear'd that watchful Power
Which measures out the sandy-streaming Hour,
An human Form the meagre Phantom wore,
And on its Brow a faded Laurel bore:
On me were fix'd its Looks, whilst thus it spoke,
And Sounds like these the solemn Silence broke.

" A T length the Time is come to tell a Truth
" To thee, to thee alone, O fated Youth!
" Then mark my Story well — in happier Days,
" Like thine, my Bosom panted after Praise;
" Foe to the grave Fatigues of Life, I strove
" To grow immortal in a Myrtle-Grove:
" Lost there, I lavish'd out my little Store,
" Destin'd to live poetically poor;
" What slender Gains my Labours brought, I " spent,
" And thro ' the Glass my luscious Profit went;
" From thence, with fictious Inspiration warm'd,
" A vain Eternity's Reversion charm'd;
" My Fate I bless'd, — for future Fame reserv'd!
" For that I glory'd! and for that I — starv'd!
" Thence, by some pow'rful Transmigration " turn'd,
" In these repentant Streams my Folly mourn'd:
" Here, as you see, my fleeting Minutes pass,
" Still, as of old, devoted to the Glass .
" As once, too humble for proud Rooms of State,
" In homely Cottages I seek my Fate,
" And find my vast Poetic promis'd Land
" All dwindled to this little barren Sand;
" With which advise, ye youthful Sons of Rhime,
" In abler Studies to employ your Time;
" Warn'd by my Fate , to learn, for learn you must,
" That all your Fame , like mine, but turns to Dust .