MS: 'Passion's Cry'

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MS: 'Passion's Cry'

My steps Fate on a mad conjuncture thrust,
'Twas grav'd in ir'n, the stern decree, "You Must!" ----
Ah, no. the plume pluck'd from the am'rous dove,
The Sentence flam'd in golden lines of love. --
Wild erring from the path by Virtue shown,
I snatch'd a flower in Virtue's ways unknown;
A flower With charms methought to raptur'd sense more sweet
Than aught in Virtue's walks I e'er could meet: -
The lovely Flower fond in my bosom worn,
I knew, or heeded not the its poison'd thorn.-

O, why is bitter mem'ry so alive,
When pleasures, Friendships, Loves, nor Hopes survive!
O'er joys no more, fond recollection burns;
Thy image haunts & blesses me by turns;
The desp'rate barbs are flesh'd deep in my heart,
Death, & Death only can extract the dart ;
His bowl alone can drug my soul to rest:
But be thou happy! be thou ever blest!
Mild zephyrs waft thee to life's farthest shore,
Nor think of me, or my distresses more! -
Falsehood accursed! No. still I beg a place,
Still near thy heart some little, little trace,
For that dear trace, the world I would resign,
Oh, let me live - and die - & think it mine!

Thou despot, Love, whom all my powers obey,
Why lord it thus with such tyrannic sway! -
In vain the Laws his feeble force oppose;
Chain'd at his feet, they groan Love's vanquish'd foes:
In vain Religion meets my shrinking eye;
I dare not combat - but I turn & fly:
Conscience in vain upbraids th' unhallow'd fire:
Love grasps her scorpions, stifled they expire:

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