Classic Poem

Slow creeps the Hour to sad Reflection due,
Coy's the bleak Whisper of the dreary Night;
Where no faint Hope arrests the timid View,
Or soften'd Pity beams her gentle Light.

Why sacred Heav'n permit my throbbing Heart,
Still in its feeble Cell so rude to beat;
Why Death recede the kind consoling Dart,
That soothes the Pulse of Life's departing Heat? —

Say, am I doom'd by desolating Fate,
The wretched Victim of acute Despair;
Has bright-eyed Mercy shut her chrystal Gate,
With stern Denial of Admission there? —

Ah no! — my soul yet looks for Joys supreme,
For rosy Bliss that Angels taste on high;
E'en now , the Transports of the GOLDEN D REAM ,
Bear my frail Being through the purple Sky.

Yes — dear Illusion, thou dost kindly throw
A twilight Glory o'er my shatter'd Sense;
I feel the transient momentary Glow,
The tender Solaces of Heav'n dispense.

Hush — 'twas the Murmur of the hurtling Wind,
That nightly rushes on my wounded Ear;
'Twas the deep Sigh, by Echo's Voice refin'd,
Sped from the pallid Lips of phrenzied Fear.

Cold through the languid Pulse does Terror creep,
The foulest Fiend of Midnight's torpid Hour;
At thy Approach the drowsy P RINCE OF S LEEP ,
Starts from his Couch and owns thy freezing Pow'r.

O could I pass these solitary Walls,
I'd seek wild Deserts and enchanted Caves;
Where pale Disorder on her Vot'ries calls,
Where gasping M ADNESS at her Shadow raves.

And, I would tell unto the weeping M OON ,
That show'rd her Tears upon my frantic Head;
Yes — I would tell her all my Woes, and soon
This widow'd Form should join its kindred Dead.

Soon should my wearied Spirit take her Flight,
From the keen Agony of mental Pain;
Soon with her L ORD enjoy celestial Light,
'Mid the pure Regions of the starry Plain.

Ah — holy Saint, if from thy lustrous Goal,
Thou view'st me sink beneath Affliction's Rod;
In Pity waft my trembling, fainting Soul,
To the chaste Presence of her Maker — G OD —

O'er our sweet Infants may thy partial Care,
Guard them from rude Oppression's savage Ire;
For this, a Mother's melancholy Pray'r,
Ascends with Fervor to their MURDER'D S IRE .