The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
THE CAPTIVE QUEEN.
With radiance rose thy morning sun,
Fair promise of a happy day;
But, luckless, ere it reach'd its noon,
The fiend of darkness dimm'd the ray.
Fair promise of a happy day;
But, luckless, ere it reach'd its noon,
The fiend of darkness dimm'd the ray.
What though the brightest gifts are thine,
And distant nations pour thy praise;
While, raptur'd, on thy form divine
The eyes of Love and Wonder gaze?
And distant nations pour thy praise;
While, raptur'd, on thy form divine
The eyes of Love and Wonder gaze?
The voice of Joy, for ever mute,
Must yield to sighs that mourn in vain;
And Pity, come with sweetest lute,
To sooth thy sorrows with her strain.
Must yield to sighs that mourn in vain;
And Pity, come with sweetest lute,
To sooth thy sorrows with her strain.
The syren Hope, who won thy ear,
Must charm no more the dangerous hour;
The warning voice of ravens, hear,
That croak thy doom on yonder tow'r.
Must charm no more the dangerous hour;
The warning voice of ravens, hear,
That croak thy doom on yonder tow'r.
Yet what is life, 'mid Horror's reign,
Where Murder's triumph cleaves the sky;
Where heaves with death the groaning scene,
And dungeons loud for vengeance cry?
Where Murder's triumph cleaves the sky;
Where heaves with death the groaning scene,
And dungeons loud for vengeance cry?
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Yet what is life to spotless fame?
And thine to latest time shall bloom—
The blow that sinks that beauteous frame
Gives all the virtues to the tomb.
And thine to latest time shall bloom—
The blow that sinks that beauteous frame
Gives all the virtues to the tomb.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |