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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.

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