AH hapless maid! whose virtues, once thy own,
The lustre of thy brilliants far outshone;
Couldst thou awhile thy waken'd self attend,
And see where all these short-liv'd glories end:
Couldst thou for once the circling crowd exclude,
And taste the joys of guiltless solitude,
Where Wisdom roams her silent haunts among,
And Contemplation mocks the giddy throng;
Where peaceful scenes each ruder sense control,
And the 'still voice' awaits the humble soul;
There, ∗ ∗, would thy conscious mind enjoy
Those heart-felt pleasures that can never cloy;
Where, peaceful once again, thy soul should feel
Joys that the world can neither give nor steal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem