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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455572" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Written For A Gentlewoman In Distress, To Her Grace Adelida, Dutchess Of Shrewsbury.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Might I inquire the Reasons of my Fate,<br>Or with my Maker dare expostulate;<br>Did I, in prosp'rous Days, despise the Poor,<br>Or drive the friendless Stranger from my Door?<br>Was not my Soul pour'd out for the Distress'd?<br>Did I not vindicate the Poor oppress'd?<br>Did not the Orphan's Cry with me prevail?<br>Did I not weep the Woes I could not heal?<br>Why then, Thou gracious, Thou all--pow'rful God,<br>Why do I feel th' Oppressor's Iron Rod?<br>Why thus the Scorners cruel Taunts endure,<br>Who basely fret the Wounds, they will not cure?<br>O Thou, whose Mercy does to All extend,<br>Say, shall my Sorrows never, never, end?<br>Let not my Tears for ever, fruitless, flow;<br>Commiserate a Wretch, o'erwhelm'd with Woe;<br>No longer let Distress my Bosom tear:<br>O shield me from the Horrors of Despair!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forgive me, Madam, that I thus impart<br>The Throbs, the Anguish, of a breaking Heart.<br>Oft, when my weary'd Eyes can weep no more,<br>To sooth my Woes, I read your Letters o'er.<br>Goodness, and Wit, and Humour, there I find;<br>And view with Joy those Pictures of your Mind;<br>With Pleasure on the lov'd Resemblance gaze,<br>Till peaceful Slumbers on my Eye--lids seize.<br>Then, then, Imagination glads my Sight<br>With transient Images of past Delight;<br>My aking Heart of ev'ry Care beguiles;<br>Then Talbot lives, and Adelida smiles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Delightful Forms! why will you fleet away,<br>And leave me to the Terrors of the Day?<br>In vain from Reason I expect Relief;<br>For sad Reflection doubles ev'ry Grief.<br>Some of my Friends in Death's cold Arms I see;<br>Others, tho, living, yet are dead to me?<br>Of Friends, and Children both, I am bereft,<br>And soon must lose the only Blessing left;<br>A Husband form'd for Tenderness and Truth,<br>The lov'd, the kind Companion of my Youth;<br>With him, thro' various Storms of Fate I pass'd;<br>Relentless Fate!--And must we part at last?<br>O King of Terrors, I invoke thy Pow'r;<br>Oh! stand between me and that dreadful Hour;<br>From that sad Hour thy wretched Suppliant save;<br>Oh! shield me from it!--Hide me in the Grave!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455572" data-title="Written For A Gentlewoman In Distress, To Her Grace Adelida, Dutchess Of Shrewsbury. de Mary Barber" data-description="Might I inquire the Reasons of my Fate,
Or with my Maker dare expostulate;
Did I, in prosp'rous Days, despise the Poor,
Or drive the friendless Stranger from my Door?
Was not my Soul pour'd out for the Distress'd?
Did I not vindicate the Poor oppr..."></div>
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