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.