A LONE —exploring the deserted plain
With measur'd feet and slow, the devious course
Adventures on—my heart with desp'rate force
Abjures all traces which the Earth profane.
Expedient sad! that courting sullen Pain,
Averts intruding comments on the source
Of agonies too proud for intercourse
Of social Friendship, or of Pleasure's train;
Yet can I wake to Hope—rememb'ring still,
That water, though in drops, with frequent stroke,
Could stone or marble into hollows pelt;
Nor beams the radiant eye that cannot spill
The gen'rous dew, when sighs and pray'rs invoke,
Nor Pride can freeze that Love despairs to melt.