The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
 | I. |
 | II. |
THE GAMESTER. |
| III. |
 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
347
THE GAMESTER.
Say, what is he, whose haggard eye
Scarce dares to meet the morning ray?
Who, trembling, would, but cannot fly
From man, and from the busy day?
Mark how his lip is fever'd o'er,
Behold his cheek, how deathly it appears!
See! how his bloodshot eye-balls pour
A burning torrent of unpitied tears!
Scarce dares to meet the morning ray?
Who, trembling, would, but cannot fly
From man, and from the busy day?
Mark how his lip is fever'd o'er,
Behold his cheek, how deathly it appears!
See! how his bloodshot eye-balls pour
A burning torrent of unpitied tears!
Now watch the varying gesture wild,
See how his tortur'd bosom heaves!
Behold Misfortune's wayward child,
For whom no kindred bosom grieves!
Despis'd, suspected, ruin'd, lost,
His fortune, health, and reputation flown—
On Mis'ry's stormy ocean tost,
Condemn'd to curse his fate—and curse alone!
See how his tortur'd bosom heaves!
Behold Misfortune's wayward child,
For whom no kindred bosom grieves!
Despis'd, suspected, ruin'd, lost,
His fortune, health, and reputation flown—
On Mis'ry's stormy ocean tost,
Condemn'd to curse his fate—and curse alone!
348
Once were his prospects bright and gay,
And Independence blest his hours;
This was the smooth and sunny way
Where tip-toe Pleasure scatter'd flow'rs:
Love bound his brow with thornless sweets,
And Friendship, smiling, fill'd his cup of joy:
Now, not a friend the wand'rer meets,
For, like a wolf—he wanders to destroy!
And Independence blest his hours;
This was the smooth and sunny way
Where tip-toe Pleasure scatter'd flow'rs:
Love bound his brow with thornless sweets,
And Friendship, smiling, fill'd his cup of joy:
Now, not a friend the wand'rer meets,
For, like a wolf—he wanders to destroy!
All day upon a couch of thorn
His weary fev'rish limbs recline;
All night, distracted and forlorn,
He hovers round the fateful shrine:
Eager to seize, with grasping hands,
The slender pittance of each easy fool,
He links himself with caitiff bands,
And learns the lesson of the gamesters' school!
His weary fev'rish limbs recline;
All night, distracted and forlorn,
He hovers round the fateful shrine:
Eager to seize, with grasping hands,
The slender pittance of each easy fool,
He links himself with caitiff bands,
And learns the lesson of the gamesters' school!
One hour elate with ill-got gold,
And dazzled by the shining ore,
In plenitude of joys behold
The Prodigal display his store!
The next in poverty and fear,
He hides him, trembling at approaching fate,
While greedy creditors appear,
And with remorseless rage lurk round his gate.
And dazzled by the shining ore,
In plenitude of joys behold
The Prodigal display his store!
The next in poverty and fear,
He hides him, trembling at approaching fate,
While greedy creditors appear,
And with remorseless rage lurk round his gate.
349
Then comes the horror-breeding hour!
While recreant Suicide attends;
Or Madness, with impetuous pow'r,
The scene of desolation ends!
Upon his grave no Parent mourns,
No widow'd Love laments with graceful woe;
No dawn of joy for him returns,
For Heav'n denies that peace his frenzy lost below!
While recreant Suicide attends;
Or Madness, with impetuous pow'r,
The scene of desolation ends!
Upon his grave no Parent mourns,
No widow'd Love laments with graceful woe;
No dawn of joy for him returns,
For Heav'n denies that peace his frenzy lost below!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |