O fly, thou first-born child of Hell, To some far distant, dreary, doleful plain, And black Remorse, and sullen Sorrows dwell: And writhing dreadful on their iron-bed Thither embost with vary'd woe, Hark, hark he raves !-Thy tablet shew, Oh mercy, Heaven !-Upstaring stands His grisly hair; his nerveless hands "Oh bring the poison'd bowl, let loose life's crimson "flood!" Sad, sacred wretch!-Thou power divine, And beam'd from thee, let pleasure's gladsome ray The mournful progeny of grief dispel. So shall the chequer'd scenes of life delight, As morning brighter peers preceded still by night, ODE IX. ΤΟ DESPAIR. BY MRS. CHARLOTTE SMITH. THOU spectre, of terrific mien, Lord of the hopeless heart and hollow eye, Ah! hide for ever from my sight The faithless flatterer Hope-whose pencil, gay, Then bids the fairy tablet fade away; While in dire contrast, to mine eyes Thy phantoms, yet more hideous, rise, And Memory draws, from Pleasure's wither'd flow'r, Corrosives for the heart-of fatal power! I bid the traitor Love, Adieu! Who to this fond, believing bosom came, With Pity's soothing voice,-in Friendship's name; The wounds HE gave, nor Time shall cure Nor Reason teach me to endure. And to that breast mild Patience pleads in vain, Yet not to me, tremendous power ! That dreary, tranquil gloom I court To thee I give this tortured breast, Ah! let me never be deceived again! Behold, in long array, the woes Of the dread future, calm and undismay'd Where niggard Nature neʼer unlocks One hoard of cheerful green ; The brown yew forms a gloomy shade, The blasted oak erects its head, A dreary wasteful scene. O haste, O fly th' accursed cell, Where Envy's fiendly faction dwell! Else shall her glance, malignant cast, The fairest shoots of Merit blast: He risks his ease, who ventures nigh The baleful witchcraft of her eye. Ev'n now from her infernal dark abyss, |