Classic Poem

Unthinking Muse! Ah, wherefore must thou stray,
Far from each blooming scene, so bright and fair,
To court the silent, dark, and devious way —
The sad recess of comfortless Despair?

No blossoms there their balmy sweets exhale,
Nor healthy plant the pois'nous air defies;
But cold Destruction chills the passing gale —
The ground is fruitless, and the blossom dies.

Scarce shall the wither'd oak, of frantic form,
Afford its shelter to the Owl distress'd;
And scarce, with scanty aid, shall Nature warm
The niggard shelter of the Raven's nest!

Unhospitable all! and cold and drear:
The hopeless eye no gentle ray shall guide;
But gleams of horror chill the soul with fear,
And 'cross the way imperfect phantoms glide.

Oh, grim Despair! thy frantic look I know,
Thy sable robe is flutt'ring to the wind,
Across thy livid face pale lightnings glow,
And yet — a darker monster lurks behind!

'Tis A THEISM ! — tho' dark and gloomy Pride
Wou'd fain its terrors to his looks impart,
The gorgeous robe his meanness cannot hide,
Nor hide the wound that festers in his heart.

Fair Mercy trembles at a form so dire,
And hides her lovely head — or forms a prayer,
Which bids the monster to his den retire,
And casts a gleam on comfortless Despair.

Back to thy cavern of eternal night,
Fly, hideous Spectre! where no ray can cheer:
And Heaven in mercy casts its beaming light,
And bids sweet Hope ev'n spring in desarts here.