108
POEMS.
While such the pangs which purple robes enfold,
While griefs like these a Sovereign's peace devour,
Should Hate or Envy follow those, who hold
This sad pre-eminence of painful power?
While griefs like these a Sovereign's peace devour,
Should Hate or Envy follow those, who hold
This sad pre-eminence of painful power?
Far be from me such thoughts!—My heart to stone
Perhaps may change, while Hunger vainly pleads;
Mine ear may coldly list the Maniac's moan,
Nor my tears flow, though virtuous Beauty bleeds:
Perhaps may change, while Hunger vainly pleads;
Mine ear may coldly list the Maniac's moan,
Nor my tears flow, though virtuous Beauty bleeds:
But while my breast one feeling throb supplies,
And while one pitying drop these lids contain,
Oh! sceptred Grief, a sigh for thee shall rise,
And a tear trickle on thy golden chain.
And while one pitying drop these lids contain,
Oh! sceptred Grief, a sigh for thee shall rise,
And a tear trickle on thy golden chain.
Lord of all life! Fountain of good and ill!
If thorniest paths must guide me to my bier,
My neck shall humbly bow beneath thy will,
Nor one proud murmur term that will severe:
If thorniest paths must guide me to my bier,
My neck shall humbly bow beneath thy will,
Nor one proud murmur term that will severe:
