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.