When free from this error I thrill with the terror, (Thought horrid to dwell on!) That the wretch whom they cherish may shamefully perish, Be publicly gibbetted, branded, exhibited, As a murderous felon ! O punishment hellish! the house I embellish They follow, infest me, they strive to arrest me, The country's amenity brings no serenity. There goes the offender! Dog him, waylay him, encompass him, stay him, And make him surrender!" My flower-beds splendid seem eyes blood-distended, I would forfeit most gladly wealth stolen so madly, Hence idle delusions! hence fears and confusions! Not a single friend's severance lessens men's reverence, No neighbour of rank quits my sumptuous banquets Without lauding their donor; Throughout the wide county I'm famed for my bounty, All hold me in honour. Let the dotard and craven by fear be enslaven. They have vanish'd! How fast fly these images ghastly, When in firm self-reliance, You determine on treating the brain's sickly cheating, With scorn and defiance! Ha ha! I am fearless henceforward and tearless, Shall sadden and darken-God help me!-hist-harken! "Tis the shriek soul-appalling he utter'd when falling! By day thus affrighted, 'tis worse when benighted; With the clock's midnight boom, from the church on his tomb, There comes a sharp screaming too fearful for dreaming; Bone fingers unholy draw the foot curtains slowly, O God! how they stare at me, flare at me, glare at me, Those eyes of a Gorgon! Beneath the clothes sinking with shuddering shrinking, A mental orgasm and bodily spasm Convulse every organ. Nerves a thousand times stronger could bear it no longer. Grief, sickness, compunction, dismay in conjunction, Nights and days ghost-prolific, more grim and terrific Than judges and juries, Make the heart writhe and falter more than gibbet and halter. Arrest me, secure me, seize, handcuff, immure me! I own my transgression-will make full confession, Quick-quick! Let me plunge in some dark-vaulted dun geon, Where, tho' tried and death-fated, I may not be baited By devils and furies! THE CONTRAST. [Written under Windsor Terrace, the day after the Funeral of George the Third.] I SAW him last on this Terrace proud, Walking in health and gladness, Begirt with his Court; and in all the crowd Not a single look of sadness. Bright was the sun, and the leaves were green, Blithely the birds were singing, The cymbal replied to the tambourine, And the bells were merrily ringing. I have stood with the crowd beside his bier, But every eye was dim with a tear, And the silence by sobs was broken. |