William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
Prayer for IndifferenceFrances Greville (1730?1789)
O
And prayed till I’ve been weary!
For once, I’ll seek my wish to gain
Of Oberon the Fairy!
Who liv’st in woods unseen;
And oft, by Cynthia’s silver light,
Tripp’st gaily o’er the green:
As ancient stories tell,
And for th’ Athenian Maid who loved,
Thou sought’st a wondrous spell;
Haply, some herb, or tree,
Sovereign as juice from western flower,
Conceals a balm for me.
No tempting charm to please;
Far from the heart such gifts remove,
That sighs for peace and ease.
That, like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or woe;
But, turning, trembles too.
’Tis pain in each degree;
’Tis bliss but to a certain bound,
Beyond—is agony.
Which dooms me still to smart;
Which pleasure can to pain refine,
To pain new pangs impart.
My shattered nerves new-string;
And for my guest, serenely calm,
The nymph Indifference bring.
See expectation fly;
And disappointment in the rear,
That blasts the purposed joy.
My eyes shall then discern;
The heart that throbbed at others’ woe,
Shall then scarce feel its own.
Each moment then shall close;
And tranquil days shall still succeed
To nights of sweet repose.
This one kind comfort send;
And so may never-fading bliss,
Thy flowery paths attend.
Thy tiny footsteps lead
To some new region of delight,
Unknown to mortal tread.
With heaven’s ambrosial dew:
From sweetest, freshest flowers distilled,
That shed fresh sweets for you.
I’ll pass in sober ease;
Half-pleased, contented will I be—
Content, but half to please.