Whither Did My Fancy Stray? By What Magic Drawn Away Have I Left My Studious Theme? From This Philosophic Page, From The Problems Of The Sage, Wandering Thro' A Pleasing Dream? 'Tis In Vain Alas! I Find, Much In Vain, My Zealous Mind Would To Learned Wisdom'S Throne Dedicate Each Thoughtful Hour: Nature Bids A Softer Power Claim Some Minutes For His Own. Let The Busy Or The Wise View Him With Contemptuous Eyes; Love Is Native To The Heart: Guide Its Wishes As You Will; Without Love You'll Find It Still Void In One Essential Part. Me Though No Peculiar Fair Touches With A Lover'S Care; Though The Pride Of My Desire Asks Immortal Friendship'S Name, Asks The Palm Of Honest Fame, And The Old Heroic Lyre; Though The Day Have Smoothly Gone, Or To Letter'D Leisure Known, Or In Social Duty Spent; Yet At Eve My Lonely Breast Seeks In Vain For Perfect Rest; Languishes For True Content.