Classic Poem

O thou! with soul to Nature dead,
Who lov'st in Folly's court to tread;
To mingle with her worthless train,
The light, the dissolute, the vain;
To hear the darkly-whisper'd tale,
That turns the cheek of Candour pale;
The flimsy talk, the clumsy jest,
By wit or sense alike unblest;
Or join the drunkard's frantic rite,
That shocks the sober ear of Night;
Far hence! nor dare with footsteps rude
Within my sacred bounds intrude!
Retire! nor idly linger here,
Where nought can please thine eye or ear.
In vain, for thee a thousand blooms
Breathe more than Araby's perfumes;
In vain, the wildly warbling throng
Awake of love and peace the song;
In vain, the limpid current flows,
The life-reviving zephyr blows,
The swain his toil with mirth beguiles,
And earth and heaven are drest in smiles!
All, all by thee are coldly past:
Thou hear'st no music in the blast;
Seest nought in all the landscape yields,
The pomp of groves and fertile fields!
Nor even can other's bliss impart
A charm to glad thy callous heart.
Go then, and join the madding croud,
Bless none, think little, and talk loud:
There may'st thou ‘reign and revel’ free,
But Peace and Virtue dwell with me!