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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.