Enjoy thine own peace in untroubled sleep,
Whilst my sad thoughts eternal vigils keep.
O couldst thou for a time change breasts with me,
Thou in that broken glass shouldst plainly see
A heart which wastes in the slow smoth'ring fire
10Blown by Despair, and fed by false Desire,
Can only reap such sleeps as sea-men have,
When fierce winds rock them on the foaming wave.
Go, thou that, &c.] What made the excellent Archdeacon-to-be select this in preference to 'Tell me no more' as a specimen of King's presumed 'juvenile productions' it is difficult to discover. But
Blown by Despair, and fed by false Desire