How eager would I shun thy cold embrace,
And try some hospitable shore to find!
Some welcome refuge; some more happy place.
But ah! the stars shone adverse at my birth,
Tho' boyish pleasures all my youth beguil'd,
And little thought amidst those scenes of mirth,
That I was doom'd to be misfortune's child.
At last the haggard wretch is come; and I,
Like some poor hark, toss'd by the mighty wave,
Am solitary left, nor have wherewith to fly