Seek not, my Lesbia, the sequester'd dale,
Or bear thou to its shades a _tranquil_ heart;
Since rankles most in _solitude_ the smart
Of injur'd charms and talents, when they fail
To meet their due regard;--nor e'en prevail
Where most they wish to please:--Yet, since thy part
Is large in Life's chief blessings, why desert
Sullen the world?--Alas! how many wail
Dire loss of the best comforts Heaven can grant!
While they the bitter tear in secret pour,
Smote by the death of Friends, Disease, or Want,
_Slight_ wrongs if thy self-valuing soul deplore,
Thou but resemblest, in thy lonely haunt,
Narcissus pining on the watry shore.