Come, Reason, come! Each nerve rebellious bind,
Lull the fierce tempest of my feverish soul—
Come, with the magic of thy meek control,
And check the wayward wanderings of my mind:
Estranged from thee, no solace can I find.
O'er my rapt brain, where pensive visions stole,
Now Passion reigns and stormy tumults roll:
So the smooth sea obeys the furious wind!
In vain, Philosophy unfolds her store—
O'erwhelmed is every source of pure delight;
Dim is the golden page of Wisdom's lore;
All nature fades before my sickening sight:
For what bright scene can fancy's eye explore
Midst dreary labyrinths of mental night?