(While in his mind, with high-born grandeur fraught,
Dilate the noblest energies of thought;)
Still, from the bliss, ethereal and refined,
Which crowns the soarings of triumphant mind,
At length he flies, to that serene retreat,
Where calm and pure the mild affections meet;
Embosom’d there, to feel and to impart
The softer pleasures of the social heart!
Ah! weep for those, deserted and forlorn,
From every tie by fate relentless torn;