TO sing of beauty and its pow'r divine,
Let other Bards invoke the tuneful Nine;
Another theme demands my humble lays,
A theme illum'd by Truth's resplendent rays;
To no fictitious scenes the Muse shall rove,
Nor seek, by frenzy led, the Delphic grove;
Alas! the mournful scenes we mean to shew,
In real, not in fancied life we know:
The ills from Genius' source that daily spring,
My pensive Muse in plaintive strains shall sing.