Is not all nature smiling? Why should I
Pine with the agonies of wretchedness?
This active life excites, that vanity,
And him the fervours of affection bless.
Ambition beckoning waves her banners high,
Streaming with rays of glory and success,
And on the wings of folly thousands fly
To grasp the toy of hourly happiness.
Dejection presses me with power like fate
In fellowship with woe, and inward care;
The beauteous forms of nature wrought so fair
Sink on my spirits with a weary weight;
Nor active life less threatens with despair,
There flourish insincerity and hate.