A Farewell To The World

False world, good night! since thou hast brought That hour upon my morn of age; Henceforth I quit thee from my thought, My part is ended on thy stage. Yes, threaten, do. Alas! I fear As little as I hope from thee: I know thou canst not show nor bear More hatred than thou hast to me. My tender, first, and simple years Thou didst abuse and then betray; Since stirdst up jealousies and fears, When all the causes were away. Then in a soil hast planted me Where breathe the basest of thy fools; Where envious arts professd be, And pride and ignorance the schools; Where nothing is examined, weighd, But as tis rumourd, so believed; Where every freedom is betrayd, And every goodness taxd or grieved. But what were born for, we must bear: Our frail condition it is such That what to all may happen here, If t chance to me, I must not grutch. Else I my state should much mistake To harbour a divided thought From all my kindthat, for my sake, There should a miracle be wrought. No, I do know that I was born To age, misfortune, sickness, grief: But I will bear these with that scorn As shall not need thy false relief. Nor for my peace will I go far, As wanderers do, that still do roam; But make my strengths, such as they are, Here in my bosom, and at home.