To my BROTHER, whilst he was in France

DEar Brother, So far as you advance
Your knowledge, by your Iourney into France
So far and more I'm sure I backward go,
For I can't say As in praesenti now;
Nor ever shall (I am so much concern'd
For your dear safety) whilst you are return'd.
Nothing at present wonted pleasure yields,
The Birds nor Bushes, or the gaudy Fields;
Nor Osier holts, nor Flow'ry banks of Glen;
Nor the soft Meadow-grass seem Plush, as when
We us'd to walk together kindly here,
And think each blade of Corn a Gem did bear.
Instead of this, and thy Philosophy,
Nought but my own false Latin now I see;
False Verse, or Lovers falsest of the three:
Ev'n thoughts of formor happiness augment
My Griefs, and are my present punishment;
As those who from a state of Grandeur fall,
Find adverse Fate hard to dispence withall.
Had Devils never Heaven seen,
Their Hell a smaller Curse had been.