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Article ODE TO DESPAIR. ← Page 2 of 2
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Ode To Despair.
Stern Anguish heard—ancl as the vulture still Snatches his prey with cries of rapture shrill , One shriek he also gave ; And seized the world within his fierce embrace ; And from that grasp , which left so deep a trace , Nothing that world can save .
Evil asserted in his realm full power , And thought and being , in that fearful hour , Felt bitter grief alone . Whilst heaven and earth—and mind and matter , too , In one wild chorus their creation rue , And Nature breathes a groan .
If ever Grief would snatch by chance his prey ; Or on all men with equal pressure weigh , My heart would not rebel . But in all ages still the noblest mind , The fairest—purest—brightest of their kind , With him must ever dwell .
Creating Spirit ! thou art source of all ; Thy voice can atoms into being call ; Of space thou art the King . Why not for man thy offspring then employ , Thy power to yield eternity of joy , From thy exhaustless spring ?
Why grant him not one draught ? On Nature s brow Could not thy hand the fairest wreath bestow ?—Art thou not Lord on High ? Spaced—Power and Time , obey thy mandate still ; Man ' s happiness—all rested on thy will ; And thou didst all deny .
No , hapless wretch ! thy heritage is grief , Life to thy sorrows cannot give relief ; Thy hopes are all in vain . But Death will come—his ample wings behold ! His dark embrace will silently enfold Thy sorrow , guilt , aitd pain .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Ode To Despair.
Stern Anguish heard—ancl as the vulture still Snatches his prey with cries of rapture shrill , One shriek he also gave ; And seized the world within his fierce embrace ; And from that grasp , which left so deep a trace , Nothing that world can save .
Evil asserted in his realm full power , And thought and being , in that fearful hour , Felt bitter grief alone . Whilst heaven and earth—and mind and matter , too , In one wild chorus their creation rue , And Nature breathes a groan .
If ever Grief would snatch by chance his prey ; Or on all men with equal pressure weigh , My heart would not rebel . But in all ages still the noblest mind , The fairest—purest—brightest of their kind , With him must ever dwell .
Creating Spirit ! thou art source of all ; Thy voice can atoms into being call ; Of space thou art the King . Why not for man thy offspring then employ , Thy power to yield eternity of joy , From thy exhaustless spring ?
Why grant him not one draught ? On Nature s brow Could not thy hand the fairest wreath bestow ?—Art thou not Lord on High ? Spaced—Power and Time , obey thy mandate still ; Man ' s happiness—all rested on thy will ; And thou didst all deny .
No , hapless wretch ! thy heritage is grief , Life to thy sorrows cannot give relief ; Thy hopes are all in vain . But Death will come—his ample wings behold ! His dark embrace will silently enfold Thy sorrow , guilt , aitd pain .