From me, my Dear, O seek not to receive <br />What e'en deep-read Experience cannot give. <br />We may, indeed, from the Physician's skill <br />Some Med'cine find to cure the body's ill. <br />But who e'er found the physic for the soul, <br />Or made th' affections bend to his controul? <br />When thro' the blaze of passion objects show <br />How dark 's the shade! how bright the colours glow! <br />All the rous'd soul with transport's overcome, <br />And the mind's surly Monitor is dumb. <br /> <br /> <br />In vain the sages turn their volumes o'er, <br />And on the musty page incessant pore, <br />Still mighty Love triumphant rules the heart, <br />Baffles their labour, and eludes their art. <br /> <br /> <br />Say what is science, what is reason's force <br />To stop the passions wild ungovern'd course? <br />Reason, 'tis true, may point the rocky shore, <br />And shew the danger, but can serve no more, <br />From wave to wave the wretched wreck is tost, <br />And reason 's in th' impetuous torrent lost. <br /> <br /> <br />In vain we strive, when urg'd by cold neglect, <br />By various means our freedom to effect, <br />Tho' like the bee from sweet to sweet we rove, <br />And search for ease in the vast sound of Love, <br />Tho' in each Nymph we meet a kind return, <br />Still in the firstfond hopeless flame we burn, <br />That dear idea still our thoughts employs, <br />And blest variety itself e'en cloys. <br />So exiles banish'd from their native home <br />Are met with pity wheresoe'er they come, <br />Yet still their native soil employs their care, <br />And death were ease to lay their ashes there.<br /><br />Thomas Godfrey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/verses-occasioned-by-a-young-lady-s-asking-the-a/
