| Welcome to PhiloLogic |
| home | the ARTFL project | download | documentation | sample databases | |
|
Sigourney, L. H. (Lydia Howard), 1791-1865 [1848], Water-drops (Robert Carter, New York) [word count] [eaf353]. To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
The shadowy monarch, on his throne of skulls, Sate, wearied and displeased. “My cheerless task Since he of Eden felt a brother's hate,” Down to the brow that blanches as I speak, Hath known no respite. Would that there were one With whom to trust my cares awhile, and snatch One moment of repose. Ho! ye who wait! Give notice that with him most worthy found By previous deeds, to waste the race of man, The King of Terrors will delight to share The glory of his kingdom.” Mighty winds, Swollen high to earthquake violence, and tones Of many waters, like wild, warring seas, Proclaimed the edict, while the lightning's spear Wrote it in flame on every winged cloud: Yea, with such zeal the elements conspired To publish the decree, methought there lurked In each, some latent, lingering hope, to win The promised regency.
The Passions came, Throned on their storm-clouds, and with varied voice Thundering, or eloquent, as best beseemed Their several natures, boasted how to quell Life's feeble springs. But to their claims, stern Death Gave credence cold. Next, fleshless Famine stalked, Followed by fierce, unpitying Pestilence, Still ever in their ear a mournful sound,— The weeping of the nations. Loudly shriek'd A martial trump, and on his bannered car, War, like a sovereign, came. Unnumbered spoils Were strewed around him, and the blood of men Flowed, as a river, 'neath his chariot wheels. His eagle eye the promised honor scanned, As an undoubted right. But still pale Death Pondered and spake not, till, with haughty pride The candidate withdrew, and trembling Earth Shrank at his kindled wrath. There was a pause, As if none dare in that foiled champion's steps Essay to tread. At length, a bloated form Moved slowly on, with mixed and maddening bowl. But ere the footstool of the throne he pressed, Death, with a father's fondness hasting down,
Embraced, and in the seat of empire placed. Great was the wonder, but none dare gainsay:— For with a fearful shout, all Nature's foes, Diseases, passions, wars and sins, confessed Intemperance their king, and at his feet Their boasted, time-cemented trophies, cast.
Sigourney, L. H. (Lydia Howard), 1791-1865 [1848], Water-drops (Robert Carter, New York) [word count] [eaf353]. |
|||||
