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.