Poem on Sensibility
Sensibility, how charming, Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell; But distress, with horrors arming, Thou alas! hast known too well! Fairest flower, behold the lily Blooming in the sunny ray: Let the blast sweep o’er the valley, See it prostrate in the clay. Hear the wood lark charm the forest, Telling o’er his little joys; But alas! a prey the surest To each pirate of the skies. Dearly bought the hidden treasure Finer feelings can bestow: Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe.