Let me the Honour soon obtain, <br />For which I long have hop'd in vain; <br />Since I, alas! am now confin'd, <br />Your Visit would be doubly kind. <br /> <br />What Sorrows have I not to fear, <br />Ty'd to the Bed of Sickness here? <br />When all that's human, quits the Place, <br />And Winter shews his horrid Face; <br />Whilst Desolation proudly stalks <br />Along the dull, deserted Walks. <br />Methinks the Skies already lour; <br />Loud, from the Hills, the Torrents pour; <br />The Shops are shut; the Days are dark; <br />And scarce a Dog is left to bark. <br />O, shield me from the dreadful Storms, <br />Which my distemper'd Fancy forms! <br /> <br />The thoughtless Fair the Toilet prize, <br />There practise Smiles, and point their Eyes: <br />But Cowper, negligent of Art, <br />Chose, early wise, the better Part. <br />Yet from your Mind some Moments spare; <br />The Stranger be a--while your Care, <br />Who now beneath Affliction bends, <br />Far from her Country, and her Friends. <br />Come, and my anxious Heart relieve: <br />For in your Presence who could grieve?<br /><br />Mary Barber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-right-honourable-the-lady-sarah-cowper/
