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I HATE the dreadful hollow behind the little
Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood
The red-ribb’d ledges drip with a silent horror of
And Echo there, whatever is ask'd her, answers
For there in the ghastly pit long since a body was
His who had given me life-0 father! 0 God!
was it well ?
Mangled, and flatten'd, and crush’d, and dinted
into the ground:
There yet lies the rock that fell with him when he
Did he fling himself down? who knows ? for a
vast speculation had fail'd,
And ever he mutter'd and madden'd, and ever
wann'd with despair,
And out he walk'd when the wind like a bruken
worldling wail'd, And the flying gold of the ruin'd woodlands drove
thro' the air.
I remember the time, for the roots of my hair were
By a shufiled step, by a dead weight trail'd, by a
whisper'd fright, And my pulses closed their gates with a shock on
heart as I heard
The shrill-edged shriek of a mother divide the
Villainy somewhere ! whose ? One says, we
Not he : his honest fame should at least by me
be maintained :
But that old man, now lord of the broad estate
and the Hall,
Dropt off gorged from a scheme that had left us
flaccid and drain'd.
Why do they prate of the blessings of Peace ? we
have made them a curse,
Pickpockets, each hand lusting for all that is
not its owu;
And lust of gain, in the spirit of Cain, is it better
Than the heart of the citizen bissing in war on
his own hearthstone ?
But these are the days of advance, the works of
the men of mind,
When who but a fool would have faith in a
tradesman's ware or his word ?
Is it peace or war ? Civil war, as I think, and
that of a kind
The viler, as underhand, not openly bearing the
Sooner or later I too may passively take the
Of the golden age-why not? I have neither hope
May make my heart as a millstone, set my face as
Cheat and be cheated, and die : who knows? we
are ashes and dust.
Peace sitting under her olive, and slurring the
days gone by, When the poor are hovell’d and hustled together,
each sex, like swine, When only the ledger lives, and when only not all
Peace in her vineyard-yes !—but a company
forges the wine.