Approach and hear his faithful Mary mourn,
And mark the throbbings of the anxious breast.”
The Soliloquy.
Here rests his head, now free from care or mirth,
A man for drinking and misfortunes known;
Cold poverty presided at his birth,
And ever since has mark’d him for her own.
Large were the draughts he quaff’d, by passion driv’n,
And reason’s power was lost amid the flow;
He gave his sorrow to the winds of heaven,