Center Collins----Quoted from Retirement

“But who is he whom later garlands grace? “Lo! his worn youth, beneath the chilling grasp “Of penury, faints; and in her mournful shroud, “Darkening all joy, all promises of bliss, “All health, all hope, dire melancholy saps, “In drear decay, the fabric of his mind! “See shuddering Pity, o’er his fallen soul “Wring her pale hands!—Regardless of the guide “That lifts his steps, regardless of the friend “That mourns, nor sadly conscious of himself, “Silent, yet wild, his languid spirit lies! “The light of thought has wander’d from his eye, “It glares, but sees not!—yet this breathing corse, “This youthful driv’ller, Nature’s ghastliest form,— “O! who would love the lyre!—in all the courts “Of fancy, where abstracted beauty play’d “With wildest elegance, his ardent shell “Enamour’d struck, and charm’d the various soul.