May never more of pensive melancholy Within thy heart, beneath thy roof appear, Than just to break the charm of idle folly, And prompt for others' woes the melting tear; No more than just that tender gloom to spread Where thy beloved Muses wont to stray, To lift the thought from this low earthy bed, Or bid hope languish for a brighter day; And deeper sink within thy feeling heart Love's pleasing wounds, or friendship's polished dart!