The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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LUCRETIA. |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
LUCRETIA.
Lucretia, who shall praise thee? Many hearts
Have softened at thy tale, and many eyes
Have wept for thee!
Have softened at thy tale, and many eyes
Have wept for thee!
Thou wert a lovely flower
Till a foul worm dared to pollute thy bosom;
And when thou pour'dst thy tarnish'd beauties forth,
Like rose-leaves scattered to the breeze that loved them,
A star thou wert, beauteously eminent
In lustrous purity: but a dark cloud
Gathered upon thy brow, and thou didst fall
From the high sphere where none have shone like thee;
Thy bosom was the shrine where injur'd faith
Gave innocence a sacrifice to virtue!
Few after thee have seen the rose of love,
And chastity's lily, sisters on a stem,
And partless in their being.
Till a foul worm dared to pollute thy bosom;
And when thou pour'dst thy tarnish'd beauties forth,
Like rose-leaves scattered to the breeze that loved them,
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In lustrous purity: but a dark cloud
Gathered upon thy brow, and thou didst fall
From the high sphere where none have shone like thee;
Thy bosom was the shrine where injur'd faith
Gave innocence a sacrifice to virtue!
Few after thee have seen the rose of love,
And chastity's lily, sisters on a stem,
And partless in their being.
Alas! the heat
Of brutish love, beguiled them of their fragrance,
And they did fade.
Of brutish love, beguiled them of their fragrance,
And they did fade.
The silver-plumaged bird,
When crime's foul breath defiled her spotless wings,
Closed them for ever.
The voice of whispering calumny did not dare
Breathe of her memory; envy's spotted tongue
Was silent o'er her deathbed; and she fell
Like a young blooming plant before the wind,
With sorrow's blessing.
When crime's foul breath defiled her spotless wings,
Closed them for ever.
The voice of whispering calumny did not dare
Breathe of her memory; envy's spotted tongue
Was silent o'er her deathbed; and she fell
Like a young blooming plant before the wind,
With sorrow's blessing.
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |