Hither, amongst the Crouds, that shun
The smoaky Town, and sultry Sun,
In cooling Springs to seek for Health,
Or throw away superfluous Wealth,
A Native of Hibernia came,
Thus writ her Thoughts, but not her Name.
Hither the Britons, void of Care,
A happy, free–born Race, repair:
Whilst I, who feel a diff’rent Fate,
Lament my Country’s wretched State;
The pitying Rocks return my Lays,
Just Emblem of the barren Bays.
Thus far — When, lo! the God of Wit,
Who slightly glanc’d on what was writ,
Suspend, he cries, thy Cares a–while;
My Sackville soon shall bless your lsle:
No longer talk of barren Bays;
Remember, ’tis a Dorset sways.
(Mary Barber)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Mind Poems, Name Poems, Cry Poems, Happiness Poems, Money & Wealth Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Wit Poems, Health PoemsBased on Keywords: crouds, hibernia, dorset, glanc, a-while, smoaky, sackville