103. To Ruin


ALL hail! inexorable lord!
At whose destruction-breathing word,
The mightiest empires fall!
Thy cruel, woe-delighted train,
The ministers of grief and pain,
A sullen welcome, all!
With stern-resolv’d, despairing eye,
I see each aimèd dart;
For one has cut my dearest tie,
And quivers in my heart.
Then low’ring, and pouring,
The storm no more I dread;
Tho’ thick’ning, and black’ning,
Round my devoted head.

And thou grim Pow’r by life abhorr’d,
While life a pleasure can afford,
Oh! hear a wretch’s pray’r!
Nor more I shrink appall’d, afraid;
I court, I beg thy friendly aid,
To close this scene of care!
When shall my soul, in silent peace,
Resign life’s joyless day-
My weary heart is throbbing cease,
Cold mould’ring in the clay?
No fear more, no tear more,
To stain my lifeless face,
Enclaspèd, and grasped,
Within thy cold embrace!


1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

103. To Ruin