Poems on Various Subjects By John Thelwall. In Two Volumes |
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| IV. | SCENE IV. |
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
SCENE IV.
Chorus.
Oh cruel sire! who, in thy frantic rage,
Canst cast away thy lost, thy injur'd child,
A prey to Want, to Anguish, and Despair.
For, in my thought, more guilty is the sire
Who thus abandons his deluded child
Than is the youth whose passion was her bane.
Canst cast away thy lost, thy injur'd child,
A prey to Want, to Anguish, and Despair.
For, in my thought, more guilty is the sire
Who thus abandons his deluded child
Than is the youth whose passion was her bane.
You see, my friends, how haughty rage transports
To impious actions e'en the worthiest minds,
And makes us deaf to Reason and to Truth.
To impious actions e'en the worthiest minds,
And makes us deaf to Reason and to Truth.
STROPHE I.
Oh Rage! of all the fiends of hellWho rule the wretched mortal's mind,
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Most stubborn, inconsistent, blind!
How curs'd are they
Who own thy sway?
How doubly curs'd the wretched thralls
On whom thy prompted vengeance falls!
ANTISTROPHE I.
'Tis thou, who, doubly furious madeBy lofty Pride's imperious flame,
Hast hoary Albert's soul betray'd
To barbarous Guilt and public Shame.
Oh wretched child!
By Passion wild
Excluded from the shores of Peace;
Where shall thy growing sorrows cease?
EPODE I.
Oh Pity, on whose cheek divine,Like gems, the trembling dew-drops shine;
Whose humid lustre soothes the heart
Impierc'd by keen Misfortune's dart;
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Chace from the furious Albert's mind
Each passion, and each thought unkind,
And let his fierce resentment quickly die.
STROPHE II.
Yes, Pity, as the furious train,Who prowling hunt their midnight prey,
Retreating shun the peopled plain,
When fair Aurora's humid ray
Benignly gilds
The cheerful fields;
So, where thy mournful beauty shines,
Resentment flies, and Rage resigns.
ANTISTROPHE II.
Oh! if at some fair virgin's ear,Who, coyly cruel, slights the swain,
Nor answers to his love sincere,
Thou weeping pleadest, not in vain;
Forsake a while
The tender toil;
And oh! exert thy gentlest art
To soften Albert's cruel heart.
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EPODE II.
Or if, some forfeit life to spare,You now, with soft, persuasive pray'r,
With sigh-swoln breast and loosen'd zone,
And 'shevell'd locks approach the throne;
Oh hither haste! thy care forego—
Thy needless care, for Brunswick's breast,
Already with each virtue blest,
Spontaneous melts at real woe.
No need of Pity's melting pray'r,
For George and Mercy are the same:
And Envy must herself proclaim,
“Compassion's not more prone to plead than he is prone to spare!”
| Poems on Various Subjects | |