The Britons, in their Nature shy, <br />View Strangers with a distant Eye: <br />We think them partial and severe; <br />And judge their Manners by their Air: <br />Are undeceiv'd by Time alone; <br />Their Value rises, as they're known. <br /> <br />Here many a worthy Mind I found, <br />With Sense and Taste, by Virtue crown'd, <br />At once so truly good and great, <br />They knew to bear a prosp'rous State. <br /> <br />Few take from noble Blood Pretence <br />To act or look with Insolence: <br />Veins, with the richest Purple dy'd, <br />But seldom swell the Heart with Pride, <br />So, tho' the River--Gods, from high, <br />With plenteous Urns the Streams supply, <br />Which still enlarge, as they descend, <br />Roll down, and in the Ocean end, <br />Thro' Ages pour'd; yet, to our Eyes, <br />Old Ocean is too great to rise. <br /> <br />The gen'rous Treatment I have met, <br />Hath run me deep in Albion's Debt: <br />And, could my artless Lines impart <br />The grateful Dictates of my Heart, <br />Latest Posterity should know <br />The Sense I have of what I owe. <br /> <br />Dear Bath, a long, a last Adieu! <br />Since I no more shall visit you; <br />Nor fix'd by Choice, but barr'd by Fate, <br />From a Felicity so great. <br />O may thy Waters ever be <br />Healthful to others, as to me! <br />Had Ovid, with prophetic View, <br />Beheld the Wonders wrought by you, <br />Medea's Arts he might have spar'd, <br />And Life by thee alone repair'd.<br /><br />Mary Barber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-leaving-bath/
