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 | The man of Uz, and other poems |  |
Of the wild anguish and despair that reign'd
In his ancestral home, no words can give
Description meet.
In the poor mother's mind
Reason forsook its throne. Her last hope gone,
Torn by a torrent from her death-like grasp,
Having no anchor on the eternal Rock,
She plunged beside it, into gulphs profound.
—She slept not, ate not, heeded no kind word,
Caress of fondness, or benignant prayer:
She only shriek'd,
“My boy! my beautiful!
They bind his hands!”
And then with frantic cries
She struggled 'gainst imaginary foes,
Till strength was gone.
Through the long syncope
Her never-resting lips essay'd to form
The gasping sounds,
“My boy! my beautiful!
Hence! Caitiffs! hence! my boy! my beautiful!”
And in that unquell'd madness life went out,
Like lamp before the blast.
In his ancestral home, no words can give
Description meet.
In the poor mother's mind
Reason forsook its throne. Her last hope gone,
Torn by a torrent from her death-like grasp,
Having no anchor on the eternal Rock,
She plunged beside it, into gulphs profound.
—She slept not, ate not, heeded no kind word,
Caress of fondness, or benignant prayer:
She only shriek'd,
“My boy! my beautiful!
They bind his hands!”
And then with frantic cries
She struggled 'gainst imaginary foes,
Till strength was gone.
Through the long syncope
Her never-resting lips essay'd to form
The gasping sounds,
“My boy! my beautiful!
Hence! Caitiffs! hence! my boy! my beautiful!”
And in that unquell'd madness life went out,
Like lamp before the blast.
| The man of Uz, and other poems | |