PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE. Frances Greville (née Macartney) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1122 K093079.001 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. I. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 298-301. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE . BY MRS. GREVILLE . OFT I've implor'd the gods in vain , And pray'd till I've been weary : For once I'll seek my wish to gain Of Oberon the fairy . Sweet airy Being , wanton Spright , Who liv'st in woods unseen ; And oft by Cynthia's silver light Trip'st gaily o'er the green ; If e'er thy pitying heart was mov'd As ancient stories tell ; And for See Midsummer night's dream . th' Athenian maid who lov'd , Thou sought'st a wondrous spell , O ! deign once more t' exert thy power ! Haply some herb or tree , Sovereign as juice from western flower Ibid. , Conceals a balm for me . I ask no kind return in love , No tempting charm to please ; Far from the heart such gifts remove , That sighs for peace and ease ! Nor ease , nor peace , that heart can know , That , like the needle true , Turns at the touch of joy or woe ; But , turning , trembles too . Far as distress the soul can wound , 'Tis pain in each degree : 'Tis bliss but to a certain bound — Beyond — is agony . Then take this treacherous sense of mine , Which dooms me still to smart ; Which pleasure can to pain refine ; To pain new pangs impart . O ! haste to shed the sovereign balm , My shatter'd nerves new-string : And for my guest , serenely calm , The nymph Indifference bring ! At her approach , see Hope , see Fear , See Expectation fly ! And Disappointment in the rear , That blasts the purpos'd joy . The tears , which Pity taught to flow , My eyes shall then disown ; The heart , that throbb'd at others woe , Shall then scarce feel its own . The wounds which now each moment bleed , Each moment then shall close ; And tranquil days shall still succeed To nights of sweet repose . O fairy-elf ! but grant me this , This one kind comfort send ! And so may never-fading bliss Thy flowery paths attend ! So may the glow-worm's glimmering light , Thy tiny footsteps lead To some new region of delight , Unknown to mortal tread ! And by thy acorn goblet fill'd With heaven's ambrosial dew , From sweetest , freshest flowers distill'd , That shed fresh sweets for you ! And what of life remains for me , I'll pass in sober ease ; Half-pleas'd , contented will I be , Content — but half to please .