despondency: an ode
oppress&039;d with grief, oppress&039;d with care,
a burden ore than i can bear,
i set down and sigh;
o life! thou art a gallg load,
along a rough, a weary road,
to wretches such as i!
di backward as i cast y view,
what sick&039;ng scenes appear!
what rrows yet ay pierce through,
too jtly i ay fear!
still carg, despairg,
t be y bitter doo;
y woes here shall close ne&039;er
but with the closg tob!
happy! ye ns of by life,
who, eal to the btlg strife,
no other view regard!
ev&039;n when the wished end&039;s denied,
yet while the by ans are plied,
they brg their own reward:
whilst i, a hope-abandon&039;d wight,
unfitted with an ai,
et ev&039;ry sad returng night,
and joyless orn the sa!
you, btlg, and jtlg,
fet each grief and pa;
i, listless, yet restless,
fd ev&039;ry prospect va
how blest the litary&039;s lot,
who, all-fettg, all fot,
with his huble cell,
the cavern, wild with tanglg roots,
sits o&039;er his newly gather&039;d fruits,
beside his crystal well!
or haply, to his ev&039;ng thought,
by unfreented strea,
the ways of n are distant brought,
a fat, llected drea;
while praisg, and raisg
his thoughts to heav&039;n on high,
as wand&039;rg, and&039;rg,
he views the len sky
than i, no lonely herit pc&039;d
where never huan footstep trac&039;d,
less fit to py the part,
the cky ont to iprove,
and jt to s, and jt to ove,
with self-respectg art:
but ah! those pleasures, loves, and joys,
which i too keenly taste,
the litary can despise,
can want, and yet be blest!
he needs not, he heeds not,
or huan love or hate;
whilst i here t cry here
at perfidy grate!
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