 | Poems |  |
42
REVENGE.
Ah! I could curse them in my woe,
E'en as the viper stings,
And to the heel that strikes it clings,
So I could plant my blow.
E'en as the viper stings,
And to the heel that strikes it clings,
So I could plant my blow.
Yes, I could pray that fell disease
Should torture them with pain—
That plague should fall in every rain,
Miasma taint each breeze.
Should torture them with pain—
That plague should fall in every rain,
Miasma taint each breeze.
That wealth should vanish, and the curse
Of poverty should reign;
That cries for bread should be in vain!
An always empty purse.
Of poverty should reign;
That cries for bread should be in vain!
An always empty purse.
43
That friends should die, and every pride
Should vanish in a day;
'Till even hope withdraws her ray,
And naught of joys abide.
Should vanish in a day;
'Till even hope withdraws her ray,
And naught of joys abide.
Yes, I could whisper in the ear
Of one who loves to tell
Some fabrication, dark as hell,
As scandal loves to hear.
Of one who loves to tell
Some fabrication, dark as hell,
As scandal loves to hear.
Revenge is sweet; I could invent
Full many a thousand way,
That would my heartfelt wrongs repay,
Could they my soul content.
Full many a thousand way,
That would my heartfelt wrongs repay,
Could they my soul content.
But could I go to sleep in peace,
And could I dream of heaven—
Could I e'er hope to be forgiven
When death came to release?
And could I dream of heaven—
Could I e'er hope to be forgiven
When death came to release?
44
Revenge is sweet to those who live;
But when we think of death—
The ebbing of this life-tide breath—
'Tis sweeter to forgive.
But when we think of death—
The ebbing of this life-tide breath—
'Tis sweeter to forgive.
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