William Julius Mickle

“ The sweetest beauty will decay,—
What floweret can endure the storm?
"At court, I'm told, is beauty's throne,
Where every lady's passing rare,
That Eastern flowers, that shame the sun,
Are not so glowing, not so fair. ”

“ Envious they mark my silken train,
Nor think a Countess can have woe.
"The simple nymphs! they little know
How far more happy's their estate;
To smile for joy, than sigh for woe—
To be content, than to be great. ”

“ And ere the dawn of day appear'd,
In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear,
Full many a piercing scream was heard,
And many a cry of mortal fear. ”