ODE ON DESPAIR. James Scott Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1135 K093079.002 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. II. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 198-202. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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ODE ON DESPAIR . BY THE SAME . SAVE me ! — What means you grisly shade , Her stony eye-balls staring wide ; In soul , and tatter'd patches clad , With dirt , and gore , and venom dy'd ? A burning brand she whirls around , And stamps , and raves , and tears the ground , And madly rends her clotted hair ; While thro' her canker'd breast are seen Myriads of serpents bred within , The cursed spawn of self consuming Care ! — 'Twas thus , Vide Musaeum foreign . O poor enamour'd maid , The Stygian fiend approach'd the sea-girt tower , What time , in sad misfortune's evil hour , The faithless lamp Love's cynosure decay'd . " And why , " the ghastly phantom cries , " Wilt thou , deluded Hero , wait " Leander's wish'd return , forbid by Fate ? " See floating on his watery bier he lies ; " Pale are his cheeks , where Love was wont to play , " And clos'd those radiant eyes , that late out-shone the day . " The woe-foreboding voice she heard , And wishing , trembling pray'd for morn — When lo ! the bleeding corse appear'd , By savage rocks all rudely torn ! Where were ye , Nymphs , O tell me where , Daughters of Nereus , fresh and fair ? And why , sweet silver-footed Queen , Would'st thou not leave thy coral cave , And sooth the rough remorseless wave , Ere Death had seiz'd thy best , thy boldest swain ? — With haggard eyes , all-streaming blood , Distracted Hero saw her lover slain , And thrice indignant view'd the guilty main , And thrice accus'd each merciless watry God . Aye me in vain ! — For " see , she cry'd , " My dear Leander's beckoning shade ! " And canst thou live , O lost , O wretched maid ? " Shall envious Fate so fond a pair divide ? " Forbid it , Love ! " — Then head-long from the tower Deep in the ruthless flood she plung'd to rise no more ! With scenes of woe , O cursed Power , How are thy greedy eyes regal'd ? How did thy heart exult of yore , When heaven's vindictive rod assail'd See the account , which is given by Thucydides , of the plague at Athens . The Queen of arts ? — With giant-stride Contagion stalks , and lo the bride , The virgin-bride unpity'd dies ! Claspt to his daughter's throbbing breast , The father breathes his soul to rest , And sorrowing sons compose the widow'd mother's eyes ? Scar'd by the Daemon's spotted hand , The eagle scream'd , the famish'd vulture fled , The hungry wolf forsook th' unburied dead , And pale diseases shivering left the land ! What cries , and piercing shrieks resound Thro' every street , at every fane ? Yet ah ! they weep , they weary heaven in vain ! Death and Distraction stare on all around ! The wretched few , whom poisonous Pestilence spares , Of moody madness die , and heart-distracting fears . These are thy deeds , O fell Despair , Thou tyrant of the tortur'd soul , According to the table of Cebes , foreign is the Sister of foreign . Sister of pale-ey'd Grief , and Care , At whose command impetuous roll Passion's rough tides , and swelling high Burst thro' each dear , and sacred tye , And every pleasing thought o'erwhelm ; Anon the crazy bark is born , Of winds , and waves , and rocks the scorn , For Reason shrinks appall'd , and trembling quits the helm ! O fly , thou first born child of hell , To some far distant , dreary , doleful plain , Where starting Fear , and agonizing Pain , And black Remorse , and sullen Sorrows dwell : Where arm'd with poison , racks , and death , Stern Horror rears his Gorgon head ; And writhing dreadful on the iron bed , The purple Furies grind their canker'd teeth ; While percht on stubs of trees the shriek-owl sings , And screaming deadly hoarse night-ravens flap their wings ! Thither embost with varied woe , Misfortune's pallid slave retires — Hark , hark , he raves ! — Thy tablet shew , Charg'd with damn'd ghosts , and sulphurous fires . Oh mercy , heaven ! — Upstarting stands His grisly hair ; his nerveless hands Shake ; o'er his face the curdled blood , From his swoln heart , with tidings flies : " Give me another horse , " he cries , " Oh ! bring the poison'd bowl , let loose Life's crimson flood ! " Sad , sacred wretch ! — Thou Power divine , Whose god-like word from chaos dark and dread , Bad Discord fly , and Light sweet-smiling spread Her orient wing , controul this breast of mine ! And still when gloomy thoughts prevail , Oh short , and partial be their sway ! And beam'd from thee , let Pleasure's gladsome ray The mournful progeny of Grief dispel . So shall the checquer'd scenes of Life delight , As morning brighter peers preceded still by night .