 | Poems, by Joseph Cottle |  |
‘An English Cot first gave me birth, and fed,
‘Till nineteen summer suns their course had sped,
‘Contented then, my soul no sorrow knew,
‘With heart untainted, and with bosom true,
‘Join'd I the village dance, the circle gay,
‘And jocund pass'd the smiling hours away;
‘(The fond remembrance of my native plain,
‘Darts wilder anguish through my throbbing brain;
‘I see the wolves, that once like lambs did bleat,
‘I see the serpents coiling at my feet,
‘Whose soft persuasive words, and fatal craft,
‘Led me from home to drink this bitter draught:
‘Mark you the cause that laid me bleeding here,
‘And warn mankind to shun the hostile spear;
‘Rais'd but to please some haughty Lordling's pride,
‘Made but to pierce the harmless Peasant's side.)
‘Till nineteen summer suns their course had sped,
‘Contented then, my soul no sorrow knew,
‘With heart untainted, and with bosom true,
‘Join'd I the village dance, the circle gay,
‘And jocund pass'd the smiling hours away;
‘(The fond remembrance of my native plain,
‘Darts wilder anguish through my throbbing brain;
‘I see the wolves, that once like lambs did bleat,
‘I see the serpents coiling at my feet,
79
‘Led me from home to drink this bitter draught:
‘Mark you the cause that laid me bleeding here,
‘And warn mankind to shun the hostile spear;
‘Rais'd but to please some haughty Lordling's pride,
‘Made but to pierce the harmless Peasant's side.)
| Poems, by Joseph Cottle | |