TO
Mr.
Nicholas
Clark
.
January
1701
/
2.
Complaining
of
Vapors
,
OR
,
Disorders
of
the
Head
.
I.
TWAS
in
a
Vale
where
Osyers
grow
By
murm'ring
Streams
we
told
our
Woe
,
And
mingled
all
our
Cares
:
Friendship
sat
pleas'd
in
both
our
Eyes
,
In
both
the
weeping
Dews
arise
And
drop
alternate
Tears
.
II
.
The
Vigorous
Monarch
of
the
Day
Now
mounted
half
his
Morning
Way
Shone
with
a
fainter
Bright
,
Still
sickning
and
decaying
still
Dimly
he
wander'd
up
the
Hill
With
his
Expiring
Light
.
III
.
In
dark
Eclipse
his
Chariot
roll'd
,
The
Queen
of
Night
obscur'd
his
Gold
Behind
her
Sable
Wheels
:
Nature
grew
sad
to
loose
the
Day
,
The
Flow'ry
Vales
in
Mourning
lay
,
In
Mourning
stood
the
Hills
.
IV
.
Such
are
our
Sorrows
,
CLARK
,
I
cry'd
,
Clouds
of
the
Brain
grow
black
,
and
hide
Our
darkned
Souls
behind
;
In
the
young
Morning
of
our
Years
Distempering
Fogs
have
climb'd
the
Spheres
,
And
Choke
the
Lab'ring
Mind
.
V.
Lo
the
Gay
Planet
rears
his
Head
And
overlooks
the
Lofty
Shade
New-bright'ning
all
the
Skies
,
But
say
,
Dear
Part'ner
of
my
Moan
,
When
will
our
long
Eclipse
be
gone
,
Or
when
our
Suns
arise
?
VI
.
In
vain
are
potent
Herbs
apply'd
,
Harmonious
Sounds
in
vain
have
try'd
To
make
the
Darkness
fly
.
But
Drugs
would
raise
the
Dead
as
soon
,
Or
clatt'ring
Brass
relieve
the
Moon
,
When
fainting
in
the
Sky
.
VII
.
Some
friendly
Spirit
from
above
,
Born
of
the
Light
,
and
nurs't
with
Love
,
Assist
our
feebler
Fires
;
Force
these
Invading
Glooms
away
;
Souls
should
be
seen
quite
thro'
their
Clay
Bright
as
your
Heavenly
Choirs
.
VIII
.
But
if
the
Fogs
must
damp
the
Flame
,
Gently
,
kind
Death
,
dissolve
our
Frame
,
Release
the
Prisoner-Mind
:
Our
Souls
shall
mount
at
thy
Discharge
To
their
bright
Source
,
and
shine
at
large
Nor
clouded
,
nor
confin'd
.