Classic Poem

TRIVIAL circumstances rising
Strike thy soul with lightning's haste;
Quick sensations , Rule despising,
Give thee strongest, keenest taste.

Exquisite thy mental pleasure,
Common transports are not thine ;
Far surpassing vulgar measure,
All thy joys are near divine.

Keep thy heights of bliss, nor venture
On the scene of painful thought;
Think how deeply grief must center
In a soul so finely wrought.

Oft I've seen thy bosom heaving,
Oft have mark'd the sigh suppress'd;
Still the senseless eye deceiving,
When the pang has rack'd thy breast.

****** such souls as thine must languish,
Like majestic ruin lie;
None but equals share thine anguish,
Fools deride thy deepest sigh.

Yet Philosophy despairing,
Mourns thy richest feelings lost;
When from self-denial veering,
Thou'rt on storms of passion tost.

Shou'dst thou view a weaker spirit,
Moving in her sphere confin'd,
Be it still thy greatest merit
To forgive, and be resign'd.