42
JEUX D'ESPRIT AND MINOR POEMS, 1798-1824.
'T was ill report that urged my brain to madness,
'T was thy tongue's venom poisoned all my joy.
2.
The sadness which thou seest is not sorrow;
My wounds are far too deep for simple grief;
The heart thus withered, seeks in vain to borrow
From calm reflection, comfort or relief.
3.
The arrow's flown, and dearly shalt thou rue it;
No mortal hand can rid me of my pain:
My heart is pierced, but thou canst not subdue it—
Revenge is left, and is not left in vain.
? 1816.
[First published, Nicnac, March 25, 1823.]
[First published, Nicnac, March 25, 1823.]
SONG FOR THE LUDDITES.[1]
1.
As the Liberty lads o'er the sea
Bought their freedom, and cheaply, with blood,
So we, boys, we
Will die fighting, or live free,
And down with all kings but King Ludd!
- ↑ [The term "Luddites" dates from 1811, and was applied first to frame-breakers, and then to the disaffected in general. It was derived from a half-witted lad named Ned Lud, who entered a house in a fit of passion, and destroyed a couple of stocking-frames. The song was an impromptu, enclosed in a letter to Moore of December 24, 1816. "I have written it principally," he says, "to shock your neighbour [Hodgson?] who is all clergy and loyalty—mirth and innocence—milk and water." See Letters, 1900, iv. 30; and for General Lud and "Luddites," see Letters, 1898, ii. 97, note 1.]
