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And dauntless view, or seem to view,

(As faintly flash the lightnings blue) Thin shiv’ring Ghosts from yawning charnels throng, And glance with silent sweep the shaggy vaults along.

But such terrific charms as these,
I ask not yet : My sober mind
The fainter forms of Sadness please ;
My sorrows are of softer kind.
Through this still valley let me stray
Wrapt in some strain of pensive GRAY :
Whose lofty Genius bears along
The conscious dignity of Song ;
And, scorning from the sacred store
To waste a note on Pride or Power,
Roves, when the glimmering twilight glooms,
And warbles 'mid the rustic tombs :
He too perchance (for well I know,

His heart would melt with friendly woe)
He too perchance, when these poor limbs are laid,
Will heave one tuneful sigh, and sooth my hov’ring

shade.

ODE XXXIII.

MELPOMENE.

Queen of the human heart I at whose command

The swelling tides of mighty Passions rise, Melpomene, support my venturous hand, And aid thy suppliant in his bold emprise.

From the gay scenes of pride

Do thou his footsteps guide To nature's aweful courts, where nurst of yore, Young Shakspere, Fancy's child, was taught his

various lore.

So may his favour'd eye explore the source,

To few reveal'd, whence human sorrows charm : So may his numbers, with pathetic force, Bid Terror shake us, or Compassion warm,

As different strains controul

The movements of the soul,
Adjust its passions, harmonize its tone,
To feel for others' woe, or nobly bear its own.

Deep in the covert of a shadowy grove,

Mid broken rocks where dashing currents play;

Dear to the pensive pleasures, dear to love,
And Damon's Muse, that breathes her melting lay,

This ardent prayer was made.

When lo! the secret shade, As conscious of some heavenly presence, shookStrength, firmness, reason, all my astonish'd soul

forsook.

Ah! whither Goddess ! whither am I borne ?

To what wild region's necromantic shore ? These panics whence ? and why my bosom torn With sudden terrors never felt before ?

Darkness inwraps me round,

While from the vast profound Emerging spectres dreadful shapes assume, And gleaming on my sight, add horror to the gloom.

Ha! what is he whose fierce indignant eye,

Denouncing vengeance, kindles into flame? Whose boisterous fury blows a storm so high, As with his thunder shakes his labouring frame.

What can such rage provoke?

His words their passage choak : His eager steps, nor time nor truce allow, And dreadful dangers wait the menace of his brow.

Protect me, Goddess ! whence that fearful shriek

Of consternation? as grim Death had laid His icy fingers on some guilty cheek,

And all the powers of manhood shrunk dismay'd:

Ah seel besmear'd with gore,

Revenge stands threatening o'er
A pale delinquent, whose retorted eyes
In vain for pity call-the wretched victim dies.

Not long the space-abandon’d to Despair,

With eyes aghast, or hopeless fixt on earth, This slave of passion rends his scatter'd hair, Beats his sad breast, and execrates his birth:

While torn within, he feels

The pangs of whips and wheels; And sees, or fancies, all the fiends below, Beckoning his frighted soul to realms of endless woe.

Before my wondering sense new phantoms dance,

And stamp their horrid shapes upon my brainA wretch with jealous brow, and eyes askance, Feeds all in secret on his bosom pain.

Fond love, fierce hate, assail ;

Alternate they prevail : While conscious pride and shame with rage conspire, And urge the latent spark to fames of torturing fire.

The storm proceeds—his changeful visage trace :

From rage to madness every feature breaks.
A growing phrenzy grins upon his face,
And in his frightful stare Distraction speaks :

His straw-invested head
Proclaims all reason fed ;

And not a téar bedews those vacant eyes-
But songs and shouts succeed, and laughter-mingled

sighs.

Yet, yet again !-a Murderer's hand

appears Grasping a pointed dagger stain'd with blood ! His look malignant chills with boding fears, That check the current of life's ebbing food.

In midnight darkest clouds

The dreary miscreant shrouds His felon step-as 'twere to darkness given To dim the watchful eye of all-pervading Heaven.

And hark ! ah Mercy! whence that hollow sound !

Why with strange horror starts my bristling hair ? Earth opens wide, and from unhallow'd ground A pallid Ghost slow-rising steals on air,

To where a mangled corse,

Expos’d without remorse, Lies shroudless, unentonb’d, he points the way Points to the prowling wolf exultant o'er his prey.

Was it for this, he cries, with kindly shower

Of daily gifts the traitor I caress'd ?
For this array’d him in the robe of power,
And lodg'd my royal secrets in his breast?

O kindness ill repay'd!
To bare the murdering blade

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