 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
159
EMIRA.
An Elegy.
Emira having quitted her Friends and Family for Love of Marcus, who had flattered her to her Undoing, is deserted by him.—Her Infant which she suckled lies dead before her, due to the Effects of Grief on her Constitution.
Fix'd like a statue pale Emira stands,
Her eyes all horror, o'er her breathless child;
When, as new-wak'd, she clasps her trembling hands,
And eager thus exclaims in accents wild.
Her eyes all horror, o'er her breathless child;
When, as new-wak'd, she clasps her trembling hands,
And eager thus exclaims in accents wild.
“Welcome, Despair, here all your plagues unfold,
“Nor comfort Heav'n can give, or I receive;
“Does Justice her red thunderbolt with-hold,
“And let in safety the Destroyer live?
“Nor comfort Heav'n can give, or I receive;
“Does Justice her red thunderbolt with-hold,
“And let in safety the Destroyer live?
“Come, Marcus, false Ingrate, Oh, hither come;
“This fatal scene, this barb'rous deed is thine:—
“Inhuman Marcus! view thy Infant's doom,
“And then—Oh cruel!—cruel!—feast on mine.
“This fatal scene, this barb'rous deed is thine:—
“Inhuman Marcus! view thy Infant's doom,
“And then—Oh cruel!—cruel!—feast on mine.
“To hopeless Misery a destin'd prey,
“Eager I call on Death, the wretches friend;
“But Death, like Marcus, scornful turns away;—
“Nor Death, nor deafer Marcus pity lend.
“Eager I call on Death, the wretches friend;
“But Death, like Marcus, scornful turns away;—
“Nor Death, nor deafer Marcus pity lend.
“Was it because my heart was all your own?
“Was it because your vows were all believ'd?
“Was it for thousand partial favors shown?
“Was it for this Emira was deceiv'd?
“Was it because your vows were all believ'd?
“Was it for thousand partial favors shown?
“Was it for this Emira was deceiv'd?
160
“Did I not quit a Parent's tender wing?
“Did I not Fortune's flatt'ring glare despise?
“Did I not scorn Fame's blasting venom'd sting?
“In pity all—to your Hyena cries.
“Did I not Fortune's flatt'ring glare despise?
“Did I not scorn Fame's blasting venom'd sting?
“In pity all—to your Hyena cries.
“Oh, with what Syren Flatt'ry did you swear
“The heav'ns should change e'er you would faithless prove:
“I, for I wish'd it true, inclin'd mine ear,
“I thought—fond Maid! Truth ever link'd to Love.
“The heav'ns should change e'er you would faithless prove:
“I, for I wish'd it true, inclin'd mine ear,
“I thought—fond Maid! Truth ever link'd to Love.
“What was my crime that you shou'd spurn me off?
“What done, that Hate should glare from forth your eye?
“By friends deserted, to the world a scoff,
“Can you, unpitying, see Emira die?
“What done, that Hate should glare from forth your eye?
“By friends deserted, to the world a scoff,
“Can you, unpitying, see Emira die?
“That Wealth, my thoughtless headlong Love bestow'd—
“Had I the world to give, it had been thine—
“Now lavish'd mid a Janus Harlot Crew,
“Whilst in the dreary cave of Want I pine.
“Had I the world to give, it had been thine—
“Now lavish'd mid a Janus Harlot Crew,
“Whilst in the dreary cave of Want I pine.
“Cou'd you behold me beg that bread I gave,
“Assorted with a beggar servile crew?
“Ragged, and to the beadle's lash a slave?—
“Cou'd you?—You cou'd—the sight remorseless view.
“Assorted with a beggar servile crew?
“Ragged, and to the beadle's lash a slave?—
“Cou'd you?—You cou'd—the sight remorseless view.
161
“What beast, even of the fellest fiercest kind,
“But licks the hand from which it food receives?
“But Man, destroyer Man, more fierce we find,
“Marcus stabs her who Wealth, Love, Honor gives.
“But licks the hand from which it food receives?
“But Man, destroyer Man, more fierce we find,
“Marcus stabs her who Wealth, Love, Honor gives.
“Lo! where the clay-cold Cherubim is laid,
“All angel sweetness smiling on her brow;
“You ne'er by cruel Man will be deceiv'd,
“You ne'er your Mother's wretchedness will know.
“All angel sweetness smiling on her brow;
“You ne'er by cruel Man will be deceiv'd,
“You ne'er your Mother's wretchedness will know.
“Your little heart will now avoid the snares,
“By artful Man for Virgin Pity wove,
“And all those quick-sands treach'rous Love prepares;
“Man's Hate is far less dang'rous than his Love.
“By artful Man for Virgin Pity wove,
“And all those quick-sands treach'rous Love prepares;
“Man's Hate is far less dang'rous than his Love.
“Gazing on You my woes were oft beguil'd,
“My sorrows oft suspended in a kiss;
“Ev'n in the pangs of Death you lovely smil'd,
“Cheer'd with the prospect of approaching bliss.
“My sorrows oft suspended in a kiss;
“Ev'n in the pangs of Death you lovely smil'd,
“Cheer'd with the prospect of approaching bliss.
“But Sickness writhes my aking heart around,
“No more Life's pow'rs their active functions show:
“Grant Heav'n, my poor repenting soul be found
“Worthy, sweet Innocent, with thine to go.”—
“No more Life's pow'rs their active functions show:
“Grant Heav'n, my poor repenting soul be found
“Worthy, sweet Innocent, with thine to go.”—
More she had said, but Death with friendly stroke
Brought her relief:—A pitying look she cast
Upon her child:—Her heart-strings kindly broke:—
She dropt—and with a sigh she breath'd her last.
Brought her relief:—A pitying look she cast
Upon her child:—Her heart-strings kindly broke:—
She dropt—and with a sigh she breath'd her last.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |