The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. |
|
|
LINES
|
 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
253
LINES
Written on a Day of Public Rejoicing!
While shouts and acclamations rend the skies,
From the deep ocean, bleeding, cold, and wan,
See groaning spectres in a phalanx rise,
To mourn the mis'ries of ambitious man!
From the deep ocean, bleeding, cold, and wan,
See groaning spectres in a phalanx rise,
To mourn the mis'ries of ambitious man!
O'er them the rude sea dashes, mix'd with gore;
The wild winds howl in dreadful blasts along;
The sulphur show'rs upon the high deck roar,
And livid lightnings flash the wave among!
The wild winds howl in dreadful blasts along;
The sulphur show'rs upon the high deck roar,
And livid lightnings flash the wave among!
Here glides the parent, bleeding is his breast!
Here the lost husband falls, and, groaning, dies!
Here the lov'd sons, the mother's darlings, rest,
While o'er their mangled limbs the billows rise!
Here the lost husband falls, and, groaning, dies!
Here the lov'd sons, the mother's darlings, rest,
While o'er their mangled limbs the billows rise!
Are these forgot? Oh! nature! yet awhile
Shed the soft tear, and heave the tender sigh;
Suspend the shout of triumph, rapture's smile;
And raise, in sorrow raise, the tearful eye.
Shed the soft tear, and heave the tender sigh;
Suspend the shout of triumph, rapture's smile;
And raise, in sorrow raise, the tearful eye.
254
Let reason, truth, religion's pow'r divine,
Call to the feeling and reflecting mind
The wretched suff'rers who in anguish pine—
The soldier's, sailor's kindred—left behind!
Call to the feeling and reflecting mind
The wretched suff'rers who in anguish pine—
The soldier's, sailor's kindred—left behind!
And while the long-drawn pompous cavalcade
Bids clam'rous exultation lift the head;
Let mild humanity the triumph aid,
And pity's tear embalm the sainted dead!
Bids clam'rous exultation lift the head;
Let mild humanity the triumph aid,
And pity's tear embalm the sainted dead!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |