University of Virginia Library

IV.

The heart was hurt—It could no more—
Along each finer nerve swift shot the misery,
Even Nature shed her pensive shower;
The mighty Mother wept, alas! with me:

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Th' imperial Goddess mourn'd her own decay,
(Mix'd universal with our human clay)
And wish'd she could a second birth bestow
On this her Representative below.
But, ah! it might not be,
So the rich debt was paid, to poor Humanity.