The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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THE DRUNKARD'S RETRIBUTION. |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
167
THE DRUNKARD'S RETRIBUTION.
Where is the ink so sable in its hue,That can portray the picture dark and true;
The horrid state which language fails to tell,
The dark confusion, and the earthly hell!
In such sad state how often have I thought—
O! that I could sink backward into nought!
Reason o'erthrown and anguish in its place,
I thought myself below the reach of grace.
Despair o'erwhelm'd my soul, and keen remorse:
To know I lived, became my bitt'rest curse;
My sorrowing friends appear'd my greatest foes,
And cheerful songs but added to my woes.
The phantom trumpets, the imagin'd band,
Methought I heard, which summon'd me to stand
High in the pillory—to meet disgrace;
My trembling heart shrunk back from every face.
Thus swiftly did imagination rove,
And o'er the prostrate throne of reason drove.
168
I durst not drink,—suspicion fill'd my mind.
Each trembling leaf, if shaken by the blast,
Struck me with terror as I hurried past.
I deemed myself the cause of all the guilt
That fills the earth—of all the blood e'er spilt,
And that kind Heaven would deign on earth to dwell,
Were I but hurried to the deepest hell.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |