Classic Poem

Go, gentle youth! may Heaven protect thy way,
Where softer gales their balmy sweets convey,
Far from these regions, and the noxious train
Of fogs and mists, in Winter's dark domain:
I's rig'rous pow'r, unmov'd, thy friends may see,
Since now it wastes its frowns, unfelt by thee;
Here may we view its rage the work perform,
Prepare the flood, and raise the ratt'ling storm;
While kinder Fate a refuge shall supply,
And cheer thy prospects with a purer sky!
And oh! (if Fancy may from Fiction steal
An airy form, our wishes to reveal)
Ev'n now, that gentle nymph, so blithe and gay,
Who views this gloomy scene with dire dismay,
May bright Hygeia's self thy seat prepare,
A shelter from the cold and piercing air!
In all her charms, and all her graces deckt,
And gently pardon too thy long neglect.
Oh may'st thou find her, tho' forsook so long—
Thy cares assiduous may repair the wrong.
May watchful angels bless the fond design,
And Make the bashful nymph for ever thine!