ARM'D with thy sad last gift—the pow'r to die,Thy shafts, stern fortune, now I can defy;
Thy dreadful mercy points at length the shore,
Where all is peace, and men are slaves no more;
~
This weapon, ev'n in chains, the brave can wield,
And vanquish'd, quit triumphantly the field;
Beneath such wrongs let pallid MEN's live,
Such they can perpetrate, and may forgive.
~
Yet while I tread that gulph's tremendous brink,
Where nature shudders, and where beings sink,
~
Ere yet this hand a life of torment close,
And end by one determin'd stroke my woes,
Is there a fond regret, which moves my mind
To pause, and cast a ling'ring look behind?
~
O my lov'd bride! For I have call'd thee mine,
Dearer than life, whom I with life resign,
For thee ev'n here this faithful heart shall glow,
A pang shall rend me, and a tear shall flow.
~
How shall I soothe thy grief, since fate denies
Thy pious duties to my closing eyes?
I cannot clasp thee in a last embrace,
Nor gaze in silent anguish on thy face;
~
I cannot raise these fetter'd arms for thee,
To ask that mercy heav'n denies to me;
Yet let thy tender breast my sorrows share,
Bleed for my wounds, and feel my deep despair.
~
Yet let thy tears bedew a wretch's grave,
Whom fate forbade thy tenderness to save.
Receive these sighs—to thee my soul I breathe;
Fond love in dying groans is all I can bequeathe.
~
~~London: W. Flexney, 1775~~
But today they still remain in society.
