She Leads in Solitude Her Youthful Hours

She leads in solitude her youthful hours,
Her nights are restlessness, her days are pain.
O when will Health and Pleasure come again,
Adorn her brow and strew her path with flowers,
And wandering wit relume the roseate bowers,
And turn and trifle with his festive train?
Grant me, O grant this wish, ye heavenly Powers!
All other hope, all other wish, restrain.