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First line: ‘No joy I in these peaceful Shades can find’.
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Transcript
The Complaint …
No joy I in these peaceful Shades can find,
Their Gloom adds Sorrow to my tortur’d Mind;
There† flow’ry Borders Seem no longer Sweet,
And the Gay Birds in vain their Songs repeat;
That Brook which o’er the Pebbles murmurs by,
I with my Tears continually Supply;
And when the Sparkling Stars I chance to see,
Ask, if there is not one a Friend to me?
But cruel as they are, they all conspire
To curse my Being with a hopeless Fire,
And doom me thus in Absence to deplore
The Loss of every Joy I knew before:
For thus Secluded from the Sight of Thee,
The Universe is all a Blank to me;
Yet I with Patience will my Lot endure,
Till Death to all my Grief Shall bring a Cure;
For in a Region far above the Skies
A Realm of Joy and endless Pleasure lies,
Those happy Climes my drooping Soul will chear,
And yield that Peace which is deny’d me hear†.
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† Sic.
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Pasted into Crewe MS 10 (f. 22r).