AN APOLOGY FOR SADNESS.
 
        When, in the miser's eager gaze,
            His countless treasures lie,
        Then most his coward spirit sinks,
            With dread of poverty.
 
        And when I felt within my grasp,
            The treasure of thy love;
        The insatiate avarice of the heart
            Fierce with my spirit strove.
 
        It troubled the clear fountain where
            My thirsting soul had quaffed,
        And mingled tears of bitterness
            With the delicious draft.