 | Poetical sketches |  |
“Too plain the sense thy cries convey—
“‘I scent with joy my plenteous prey;
“‘Upon yon flinty altar piled,
“‘View my pale victims—sire and child;
“‘And ere to-morrow's sun arise,
“‘Shall feast upon the sacrifice!’—
“Oh, come not near with dirge so dread—
“Spare us, at least, until we're dead!”
“‘I scent with joy my plenteous prey;
“‘Upon yon flinty altar piled,
“‘View my pale victims—sire and child;
“‘And ere to-morrow's sun arise,
“‘Shall feast upon the sacrifice!’—
“Oh, come not near with dirge so dread—
“Spare us, at least, until we're dead!”
| Poetical sketches | |