Charlotte Smith - Care lyrics

Should the lone wanderer, fainting on his way, Rest for a moment of the sultry hours And though his path through thorns and roughness lay, Pluck the wild rose or woodbine's gadding flowers; Weaving gay wreaths beneath some sheltering tree, The sense of sorrow he awhile may lose; So have l sought thy flowers, fair poesy So charmed my way with friendship and the muse. But darker now grows life's unhappy day, Dark with new clouds of evil yet to come: Her pencil sickening fancy throws away And weary hope reclines upon the tomb; And points my wishes to that tranquil shore Where the pale spectre care pursues no more.