So strongly are the cruel winds combined
My ruin to concert, that they disperse
My tender fancies soon as framed, and worse,
Leave all my keen anxieties behind,
That like tenacious ivies darkly twined
Round some old ruin, fix their vigorous root
Deep in my heart, and their wild branches shoot
O'er all the fond affections of my mind.
Yet on the other hand I murmur not,
Now that the winds in their tempestuous strife
Have stolen my bliss, that thus my sorrows stay;
I rather gather comfort from the thought;
For in the process of so hard a life,
They lessen the long toil and weary way.