Classic Poem

O HASTE , ye hovering clouds, away,
Ye clouds so fleecy, dim, and pale,
Through which the Moon's obstructed ray
Sheds this sad whiteness o'er the vale!
Forbear, ye bells, that languid strain!
The sight, the sound, are fraught with pain;
The words of dying friends I hear,
The open grave I linger near,
Take the last look, and drop the parting tear!

Before my view dire phantoms rise,
The plagues of hapless human-kind!
Pale Fear, who unpursued still flies,
And starts, and turns, and looks behind;
Remorse, whose own indignant aim
Deforms with useless wounds her frame;
Despair, whose tongue no speech will deign,
Whose ghastly brow looks dark disdain,
And bends from steep rocks o'er the foaming main.

And Rage, whose bosom inly burns,
While Reason's call he scorns to hear:
And Jealousy, who ruthless turns
From suppliant Beauty's prayer and tear;
Revenge, whose thoughts tumultuous roll
To seek the poniard or the bowl;
And Phrensy, wildly passing by,
With her chain'd arm and starting eye,
And voice that with loud curses rends the sky!

Ambition, here, to heights of power
His course with daring step pursues,
Though Danger's frown against him low'r,
Though Guilt his path with blood bestrews;
There Avarice grasps his useless store,
Though Misery's plaints his aid implore,
Though he, her ruin'd cottage nigh,
Beholds her famish'd infants lie,
And hears their faint, their last expiring cry!

Ye dreadful band! O spare, O spare!
Alas, your ear no prayers persuade!
But, ah! if man your reign must hear,
Sure man had better ne'er been made!
Say, will Religion clear this gloom,
And point to bliss beyond the tomb!
Yes, haply for her chosen train;
The rest, they say, severe decrees ordain
To realms of endless night, and everlasting pain