Thoughts In Sickness
by Lord John Manners
I know not how it is, but man ne'er sees
The glory of this world, its streams, and trees,
Its thousand forms of beauty that delight
The soul, the sense, and captivate the sight
So long as laughing health vouchsafes to stay,
And charm the traveler on his joyous way.
No! man can ne'er appreciate this earth,
Which he has lived and joyed in from his birth,
Till pain or sickness from his sight removes
All that in health he valued not, yet loves.
Then, then it is he learns to feel the ties
Of earth and all its sweetest sympathies;
Then he begins to know how fair, how sweet,
Were all those flowers that bloomed beneath his
feet:
Then he confesses that before in vain,
The wild flowers flourished in the lonely plain:
Then he remembers that the lark would sing,
Making the heavens with her music ring,
And he ungrateful never cared to hear
Those tuneful orisons at daybreak clear;
While all the glories that enrich this earth,
Crowd on the brain, and magnify its worth
Till truant fancy quits the couch of pain,
To rove in health's gay fields and woods again!
But when some pang his wandering sense recalls,
And chains the sufferer to his prison walls,
What to his anguish adds a sharper sting,
And plumes the feathers on affliction's wing?
W r hat but the thought that in his hour of health,
He slighted these, for glory, power, or wealth.
And, oh ! how trivial when compared to these,
Seem all those pleasures which are said to please!
At morn, when through the open lattice float
The hymns of praise from many a warbler's throat,
The sick man turns with pained and feverish start,
And groans in abject bitterness of heart.
Whence, say, ye vain ones, whence that soul-drawn
groan ?
Came it from anguish, or from pain alone?
Think ye, reflection was not busy there,
Borne on the sunbeam wafted by the air,
That speaks upbraiding, though its balmy voice
Whispers bright hopes, and bids his soul rejoice!
So feel I now, and should gay health once more
Glow in my frame, as it has glowed of yore,
Oh ! may I prove my thankfulness, and show
I feel the glory of all things below!
The glory of this world, its streams, and trees,
Its thousand forms of beauty that delight
The soul, the sense, and captivate the sight
So long as laughing health vouchsafes to stay,
And charm the traveler on his joyous way.
No! man can ne'er appreciate this earth,
Which he has lived and joyed in from his birth,
Till pain or sickness from his sight removes
All that in health he valued not, yet loves.
Then, then it is he learns to feel the ties
Of earth and all its sweetest sympathies;
Then he begins to know how fair, how sweet,
Were all those flowers that bloomed beneath his
feet:
Then he confesses that before in vain,
The wild flowers flourished in the lonely plain:
Then he remembers that the lark would sing,
Making the heavens with her music ring,
And he ungrateful never cared to hear
Those tuneful orisons at daybreak clear;
While all the glories that enrich this earth,
Crowd on the brain, and magnify its worth
Till truant fancy quits the couch of pain,
To rove in health's gay fields and woods again!
But when some pang his wandering sense recalls,
And chains the sufferer to his prison walls,
What to his anguish adds a sharper sting,
And plumes the feathers on affliction's wing?
W r hat but the thought that in his hour of health,
He slighted these, for glory, power, or wealth.
And, oh ! how trivial when compared to these,
Seem all those pleasures which are said to please!
At morn, when through the open lattice float
The hymns of praise from many a warbler's throat,
The sick man turns with pained and feverish start,
And groans in abject bitterness of heart.
Whence, say, ye vain ones, whence that soul-drawn
groan ?
Came it from anguish, or from pain alone?
Think ye, reflection was not busy there,
Borne on the sunbeam wafted by the air,
That speaks upbraiding, though its balmy voice
Whispers bright hopes, and bids his soul rejoice!
So feel I now, and should gay health once more
Glow in my frame, as it has glowed of yore,
Oh ! may I prove my thankfulness, and show
I feel the glory of all things below!
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