Miscellanies (1785) :: :: University of Virginia Library

V.

Then in the sable stole of woe,
All conscious of the blow,
Pale her cheek, her eye declining,
Half obedient, half repining;
Her visage mark'd by many a tear,
(Pour'd from the crystal source of grief sincere)
In awful state,
Unfortunate and great,
Melpomene came on,
Afflicted for her Son,
And thrice, methought, the Bowl she lifted high,
And thrice she threw on Heaven the pity-moving eye;

Then, like the statue of Despair,
Stood fix'd—her dagger pois'd in air.