Classic Poem

Bath ! ere I quit thy pleasing scene,
Thy beachen cliff I'll climb again,
To view thy mountain's vivid green,
To view thy hill-surrounded plain:
To see distinct beneath the eye,
As in a pictur'd prospect nigh,
Those Attic structures shining white,
That form thy sunny crescent's bend,
Or by thy dusty streets extend,
Or near 'thy winding river's site.

Did Commerce these proud piles upraise?
For thee she ne'er unfurl'd her sails—
Hygeia gave thy fountains praise,
And Pain and Langour sought thy vales:
But these suffic'd an humble cell,
If they with Strength and Ease might dwell.
Then Fashion call'd; his potent voice
Proud Wealth with ready step obey'd,
And Pleasure all her arts essay'd,
To fix with thee the fickle choice.

Precarious gift!—Thy mansions gay,
Where Peers and Beauties lead the ball,
Neglected, soon may feel decay;
Forsaken, moulder to their fall.—
Palmyra, once like thee renown'd,
Now lies a ruin on the ground.—
But still thy environs so fair,
Thy waters' salutary aid,
Will surely always some persuade
To render thee their care.