These Plains, so joyous once to me,
Now sadly chang'd appear:
Hortensia I no more can see,
Who patroniz'd me here.
Fair Excellence, where--e'er you go,
May Kindred Angels wait,
To guard you thro' this Vale of Woe,
To your celestial Seat.
Sage Boerhaave! now exert your Art,
New Medicines explore:
A purer, or a nobler Heart,
Ne'er sought thy Aid before.
Your choicest Springs, Germania, give:
Goddess of Health, attend:
Long, long, and happy may she live,
The lonely Stranger's Friend.
Mary Barber
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/written-at-tunbridge-wells/
