Why can no hymnèd charm of music heal
The sleepless woes impassioned spirits feel?
Can Fancy’s fairy hands no veil create,
To hide the sad realities of fate?—
No! not the quaint remark, the sapient rule,
Nor all the pride of Wisdom’s worldly school,
Have power to soothe, unaided and alone,
The heart that vibrates to a feeling tone!
When stepdame Nature every bliss recalls,
Fleet as the meteor o’er the desert falls;