Fragment, Written Extempore Poem by Robert Anderson

Nought is there in this wide world worth enjoying,
Except health, liberty, and peace of mind;
Yet, strange, a thousand vain desires torment us,
And overthrow the hopes of happiness.
First, pride, a dang'rous inmate of the breast,
Her various gew--gaws holds to youth's fond view,
And lures the thoughtless mind from wisdom's path:
Soon smart correction calls reflection forth,
And learning thus becomes a pleasing toil.
Now love the heart bewilders; one warm glance
From fancied beauty, e'en the blooming cheek,
The vermeil lip, arch look of roving eye,
The bosom fires, and makes us sigh and pine;
Then sleepless pass the health--consuming nights,
Nor pleasures now beguile the tedious days;
Racks, tortures, pleasing hopes, and jealous fears,
Alternate seize the heated wav'ring mind;
Till reason claims her empire o'er the brain,
And strips a mistress of ideal charms.
Ambition next appears, with motley train,
And oft in vades our slumbers; now we dream
Of grandeur, pomp, and pow'r, of laurels won;
And honours lavish'd: soon the tell--tale, time,
Grave lessons whispers, proving all our youth
But scenes of vanity. In manhood, next,
Cautious we reason, pleasures we pursue;
And for a while are toss'd 'twixt joy and grief,
Till death, oft welcome, ends our countless cares!