 | Imaginary Sonnets |  |
83
DANIEL FORD ON SUICIDE.
(1740.)
I goad self fiercely on the edge of space
With savage rowel, like a quaking steed
Which will not leap, though fast its ploughed flanks bleed,
But shrinks and rears, and trembles on one place;
With savage rowel, like a quaking steed
Which will not leap, though fast its ploughed flanks bleed,
But shrinks and rears, and trembles on one place;
For in that gulf where I would end the race
Resides the ghost of every guilty deed,
And every terror in the human creed,
And every doubt with white and tortured face.
Resides the ghost of every guilty deed,
And every terror in the human creed,
And every doubt with white and tortured face.
Leap, and fall shattered in another world?
Leap, and be caught half-way by black-winged ghouls?
Leap, and go headlong for Eternity,
Leap, and be caught half-way by black-winged ghouls?
Leap, and go headlong for Eternity,
Through empty Nature's horror, where the hurled,
Like drops of torment in a rain of souls,
Are swept across the everlasting sky?
Like drops of torment in a rain of souls,
Are swept across the everlasting sky?
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