I found the illusion fled; but rife,
Unquench’d desires their longings crave;
I felt the real, I hated life,
And peace believed but in the grave.
And yet I seek, and anxious seek,
For pleasures still I ask and sigh,
And hear dread accents answering speak,
“Unhappy one! despair, and die.
“Die: Life is torment, joy a cheat,
Hope not for good on earth for thee,