Stern, rugged men my conduct view;
They chide my wish, they bar my door,
'Tis hard—I weep—you see I do.—
Must you, my friends, no longer stay?
Thus quickly all my pleasures end;
390
But I'll remember, when I pray,
My kind physician and his friend;
And those sad hours you deign to spend
With me, I shall requite them all;