LINES TO A COASTING CAPTAIN

So long harassed by winds and seas,

‘ Tis time, at length, to take your ease,

Change ruffian waves for quiet groves

And war's loud blast for sylvan loves.

In all your rounds,‘ tis passing strange

No fair one tempts you to a change —

Madness it is, you must agree,

To lodge alone‘ till forty-three.

Old Plato said, no blessing here

Could equal Love — if but sincere;

And writings penn'd by heaven, have shown

That man can ne'er be blest alone.

O'er life's meridian have you pass'd;

The night of death advances fast!

No props you plant for your decline,

No partner soothes these cares of thine.

If Neptune's self, who ruled the main,

Kept sea-nymphs there to ease his pain;

Yourself, who skim that empire o'er,

Might surely keep one nymph on shore.

Myrtilla fair, in yonder grove,

Has so much beauty, so much love,

That, on her lip, the meanest fly

Is happier far than you or I.