 |
 | Poems, chiefly occasional, by the late Mr. Cliffton |  |
Brothers,
Be bloody; let no tears controul,
Nor mawkish pity hang about your soul.
When beauty pleads, tho' as the morning fair,
Tho' angel sweetness breathes thro' all her pray'r,
Tho' e'en with love, her panting bosom swells,
Be deaf as adders to the tale she tells;
And, in return for many a gentle word,
Such mercy give as daggers' points afford.
A halter.
Be bloody; let no tears controul,
Nor mawkish pity hang about your soul.
When beauty pleads, tho' as the morning fair,
Tho' angel sweetness breathes thro' all her pray'r,
Tho' e'en with love, her panting bosom swells,
Be deaf as adders to the tale she tells;
And, in return for many a gentle word,
Such mercy give as daggers' points afford.
A halter.
| Poems, chiefly occasional, by the late Mr. Cliffton | |