THE HAMADRYAD's PETITION.(In Imitation of Mrs. Carter.)
If ere thy gentle Muse was bred
In gay Parnassus' height,
And there beheld Apollo shed
His beams of orient light;
In gay Parnassus' height,
And there beheld Apollo shed
His beams of orient light;
If ere the rural sweets of Morn,
Inspired thy gentle care;
Oh! hear a Hamadryad forlorn,
Who now prefers her pray'r!
Inspired thy gentle care;
Oh! hear a Hamadryad forlorn,
Who now prefers her pray'r!
Oppress'd she comes, with many a wrong,
And fears of deep dismay;
For Tyrant pow'r has mark'd too long
Her desolated way.
And fears of deep dismay;
For Tyrant pow'r has mark'd too long
Her desolated way.
Ah me!—how sad a change is here!
Her weeping eyes must view;
And oh! what chasms now appear,
Where fate her kindred grew!
Her weeping eyes must view;
And oh! what chasms now appear,
Where fate her kindred grew!
She sees them fall by ruthless Rage:
'Twould sure a stone provoke!
Nor graceful form, nor tender age,,
Averts the barb'rous stroke.
'Twould sure a stone provoke!
Nor graceful form, nor tender age,,
Averts the barb'rous stroke.
Ah me! no more the blooming Spring,
Their native charms shall wake;
Nor birds the vocal tribute bring,
Their shelter to partake.
Their native charms shall wake;
Nor birds the vocal tribute bring,
Their shelter to partake.
Alas! their friendly aid no more
Shall bless the weary swain,
And rustic rhet'ric shall deplore
The friend he priz'd, in vain!
Shall bless the weary swain,
And rustic rhet'ric shall deplore
The friend he priz'd, in vain!
The aged trav'ller too, shall mourn,
The dismal waste to see;
And many a gentle nymph forlorn,
Shall grieve and sigh with me!
The dismal waste to see;
And many a gentle nymph forlorn,
Shall grieve and sigh with me!
Nor songster now, nor sweet repose,
Shall sooth the toil that's past;
And where's the shelter Mis'ry knows
To shield the northern blast?
Shall sooth the toil that's past;
And where's the shelter Mis'ry knows
To shield the northern blast?
Oh tyrant Man! then spare thy rage,
A pitying ear incline!
Since artless Youth, and weary Age,
Shall blend their tears with mine!
A pitying ear incline!
Since artless Youth, and weary Age,
Shall blend their tears with mine!
And peaceful Contemplation dear,
Which lonely loves to stray,
With Truth, and Sympathy sincere,
Shall miss me on their way.
Which lonely loves to stray,
With Truth, and Sympathy sincere,
Shall miss me on their way.
Alas! tis vain—a dismal fate
My rustling boughs foretell—
Perchance, ere yet to-morrows date,
The Raven screams my knell!
My rustling boughs foretell—
Perchance, ere yet to-morrows date,
The Raven screams my knell!
Yet oh! reveng'd my wrongs shall be!
Some muse with gen'rous aim,
My right to justice shall decree,
And vindicate my fame.
Some muse with gen'rous aim,
My right to justice shall decree,
And vindicate my fame.
Perchance its soft resistless grace,
Ev'n Vengeance shall subdue;
And he who saves my hapless race,
Shall feel the blessings too.
Ev'n Vengeance shall subdue;
And he who saves my hapless race,
Shall feel the blessings too.