218
Poems on
There frantic Anger, prone to wild Extremes,
Grasps an ensanguin'd Sword, and Heav'n blasphemes.
There heart-sick Agony distorted stands,
Writhes his convulsive Limbs, and wrings his Hands.
There Sorrow droops his ever-pensive Head,
And Care still tosses on his iron Bed:
Or musing, fastens on the Ground his Eye,
With folded Arms; with every Breath, a Sigh.
Hydrops unwieldy wallows in a Flood,
And Murther rages, red with human Blood:
With Fever, Famine, and afflictive Pain,
Plague, Pestilence, and War, a dismal Train!
These, and a thousand more, the Fiend surround,
Shrieks pierce the Air, and Groans to Groans resound.
O! Heav'ns! is this the Passage to the Skies
That Man must tread, when Man your Fav'rite dies?
Grasps an ensanguin'd Sword, and Heav'n blasphemes.
There heart-sick Agony distorted stands,
Writhes his convulsive Limbs, and wrings his Hands.
There Sorrow droops his ever-pensive Head,
And Care still tosses on his iron Bed:
Or musing, fastens on the Ground his Eye,
With folded Arms; with every Breath, a Sigh.
Hydrops unwieldy wallows in a Flood,
And Murther rages, red with human Blood:
With Fever, Famine, and afflictive Pain,
Plague, Pestilence, and War, a dismal Train!
These, and a thousand more, the Fiend surround,
Shrieks pierce the Air, and Groans to Groans resound.
O! Heav'ns! is this the Passage to the Skies
That Man must tread, when Man your Fav'rite dies?
Oh!
