Sensibility

CELESTIAL spring! to Nature's favourites giv'n,
Fed by the dews that bathe the flow'rs of heav'n:
From the pure crystal of thy fountain flow
The tears that trickle o'er another's woe;
The silent drop that calms our own distress;
The gush of rapture at a friend's success;
Thine the soft show'rs down Beauty's breast that steal,
To sooth the heart-wounds they can never heal:
Thine too the tears of ecstacy that roll,
When Genius rushes on the ravish'd soul;
And thine the hallow'd flood that drowns the eye,
When warm Religion lifts the thought on high.