Dear Psyche, come, with chearful Face,
And bless this desolated Place.
O come! my sickly Couch attend,
And ease the Anguish of your Friend.
Thy Soul, with ev'ry Grace supply'd,
Thy gen'rous Soul, in Friendship try'd,
With Wit, and nervous Sense delights;
And steals away the tardy Nights.
Whilst others to Diversions fly,
You watch the Sleep--forsaken Eye:
To Thee was giv'n the won'drous Pow'r,
To gild the melancholy Hour,
To sooth the long--distracted Brain,
And conquer ev'n the Tyrant Pain.
Mary Barber
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mrs-s-written-in-my-sickness/
