ALAS, my dear Mother, our Evil and Good
By few is distinguish'd, by few understood:
How oft are we doom'd to repent at the End,
The Events that our pleasantest Prospects attend;
As SOLON declar'd, in the last Scene alone,
All the Joys of our Life, all our Sorrows are known.
When first I came hither for Vapours and Wind,
To cure all Distempers, and study Mankind;
How little I dream'd of the Tempest behind.
I never once thought what a furious Blast,
What Storms of Distress would o'erwhelm me at last.
How wretched am I! what a fine Declamation
Might be made on the Subject of my Situation!
I'm a Fable! — an Instance! — and serve to dispense
An Example to all Men of Spirit and Sense:
To all Men of Fashion, and all Men of Wealth,
Who come to this place to recover their Health:
For my Means are so small, and my Bills are so large,
I ne'er can come home till you send a Discharge.
Let the Muse speak the Cause, if a Muse yet remain,
To supply me with Rhimes, and express all my Pain.