Poems Consisting Of Essays, Lyric, Elegiac, &c. By Thomas Dermody. Written between the 13th and 16th Year of his Age |
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ON SENSIBILITY WITHOUT FEELING. |
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ON SENSIBILITY WITHOUT FEELING.
Many, there are, who claim the gen'rous Art,To soothe, and soften the dejected heart;
Claim every pang, Humanity bestows,
And weep, and agonize, at alien woes;
They only play a part, they only seem,
Let Misery call, they start, as from a dream;
With cruel scorn, obligingly abuse,
And half-refusing, totally refuse:
'Tis pride, 'tis whim, that strains the mimic eye,
'Tis vain self-love, impels the specious sigh;
Fools in their acting, all the cheats display'd,
They praise that Merit, which they will not aid,
Fair words, of peace, the needy wretch, beguile,
They read, they throb, they squeeze the purse, and smile.
Peace to all such! whose sordid minds, but mark
Sneaking Compassion, not one noble spark!
So, some old column, mould'ring in decay,
Shines, with a gilded outside, on the way,
But lean'd on, by some wretch, immediate falls,
And tumbling, bears along, a weight of walls,
Which o'er the ground, in aweful ruin spread,
Heap stones and rubbish on his hapless head.
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