poem on sensibility

　　sensibility, how charming,

　　dearest nancy, thou canst tell;

　　but distress, with horrors arming,

　　thou alas! hast known too well!

　　fairest flower, behold the lily

　　blooming in the sunny ray:

　　let the blast sweep o'er the valley,

　　see it prostrate in the clay.

　　hear the wood lark charm the forest,

　　telling o'er his little joys;

　　but alas! a prey the surest

　　to each pirate of the skies.

　　dearly bought the hidden treasure

　　finer feelings can bestow:

　　chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure

　　thrill the deepest notes of woe.