Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/45

1820-30.] JOHN M. HARNEY. 29 The cry was hushed, and dumb confusion reigned. Even then, when hope was dead ! — all past hope — I heard a Jaugh ! and saw a wretched man Rip madly his own veins, and bleeding, drink With eager joy. The example seized on all:— Each fell upon liimself, tearing his veins Fiercely in search of blood! And some there were, Who, having emptied their own veins, did seize Their neighbors' arms, and slay them for their blood. Oh! happy then were mothers who gave suck. They dashed their little infants from their breasts. And their shrunk bosoms tortured to extract The bahny juice, oh ! exquisitely sweet To their parched tongues ! ' Tis done ! — now all is gone! Blood, water, and the bosom's nectar, — all ! "Rend, oh! ye lightnings! the sealed firmament. And flood a burning world. — Rain ! rain ! pour! pour! Open, ye windows of high heaven! and pour The mighty deluge! Let us drown, and drink Luxurious death! Ye earthquakes, split the globe. The solid, rock-ribbed globe! and lay all bare. Its subterranean rivers, and fresh seas !" Thus raged the multitude. And many fell In fierce convulsions; — many slew them- selves. And now I saw the city all m flames — The forest burning — and the very earth on fire! I saw the mountains open with a roar. Loud as the seven apocalyptic thunders. And seas of lava rolling headlong down. Through crackling forests fierce, and hot as hell, Down to the plain. — I turned to fly, and waked ! ECHO AND THE LOVER. Lover. Echo ! mysterious nymph, declare Of what you're made and what you are — Echo. "Air!" Lover. 'Mid airy cliffs, and places high, Sweet Echo ! listening, love, you lie— Echo. "You lie!" Lover. You but resuscitate dead sounds — Hark ! how my voice revives, re- sounds ! Echo. "Zounds!" Lover. I'll question you before I go — Come, answer me more apropos ! Echo. "Poh! poh!" Lover. Tell me, fair nymph, if e'er you saw So sweet a girl as Phoebe Shaw ! Echo. "Pshaw!" Lover. Say, what will win that frisking coney Into the toils of matrimony ! Echo. "Money!" Lover. Has Phoebe not a heavenly brow ! Is it not white as peai'l — as snow ! Echo. "Ass, no!" Lover. Her eyes ! Was ever such a pair I Are the stars brighter than they are ? Echo. "They are!"