Classic Poem

Thou Phantom — who art said to dwell
Within the Hermit's hallow'd Cell;
Remote from where the worldly Train
Their Homage pay at Fortune's Fane: —
Thee I have sought with suppliant Eye,
When bursting with the pent up Sigh,
My aching Heart hath learn'd to muse,
And feed on Sorrow's bitter Dews!
When keen Affliction charg'd the Blow,
That struck each finer nerve with Woe;
I've call'd upon thy Aid in vain,
To strew thy Roses on my Pain: —
No friendly hand the Balsam brought,
To drop it on the wounded Thought
Thus kindred with the fiend Despair,
I've fed the goading Worm of Care;
Have hied me at the Noon of Night,
To steal pale Grief from Cynthia's melancholy Light!

I've sought Thee on my native Shore,
Where prowling Billows wildly roar: —
Have run thro' Pleasure's mazy Dance,
And gaz'd upon the fleeting Trance
Of splendid Fetes, and courtly Pride,
To English Luxury allied:
Turn'd giddy at the varied Scene
Of Dissipation's shining Mein!
E'en in Retirement's vapid Bow'rs,
I've watch'd the solitary Hours;
Observ'd the Primrose shoot its Head,
And decorate its mossy Bed;
The fleecy Herd too skip and play,
Delighted with the noon-tide Day: —
I've tasted all the Joys that S PRING
In vegetation's Bloom could bring;
Yet Happiness — thou wert not there,
For jealous Love prey'd deeply on a Heart of Care!

From Greenland's bleak unfriendly Coast,
Where oft the Mariner is lost;
Where sternest Winter loves to reign,
White rob'd upon the frozen Main: —
To where the Majesty of Day
Beams on the World his fiery Ray;
Through all the habitable Space,
Man's penetrating Eye can trace,
Thy mocking Form I still pursue,
That Form of fascinating hue;
O'er which the radiant Genius throws,
A magic Scarf 'gainst human Woes: —
Yet thou false Friend, ne'er deign'st to rest
Upon M ARIA'S troubled Breast;
But like the swift resentful Wind,
Do'st leave me in the Vale behind: —
Then bring kind Apathy Relief,
Or soothe my weary Mind with Luxury of Grief!