Or does some fear some doubt, controul?
So round the heart strong fibres strain,
That it attempts to beat in vain?
Does palsy on your feelings hang,
Deaden'd by some severer pang?
If so, behold, my eyes o'erflow!
For, O! that anguish well I know!
When once that fatal stroke is given,--
When once that finest nerve is riven,
Our love, our pity, all are o'er;
We even sooth ourselves no more!

"Back, hurrying feelings! to the time
I learnt to clothe my thoughts in rhyme!
When, climbing up my father's knees,
I gaily sang, secure to please!
Rounded his pale and wasted cheek,
And won him, in his turn, to speak:
When, for reward, I closer prest,
And whisper'd much, and much carest;
With timorous eye, and head aside,
Half ask'd, and laugh'd, and then denied;
Ere I again petition made
To hear the often-told crusade.
How, knowing hardship but by name,
Misled by friendship and by fame,
His parents' wishes he disdain'd,
With zeal, nor real quite, nor feign'd;
And fought on many a famous spot;--
The suffering of a captive's lot;