Poems, 1799 by Robert Southey
page 31 of 147 (21%)
page 31 of 147 (21%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
And laugh'd to see them writhe.
"These," said the Spirit, Are taught by CRUELTY, to loath the lives They led themselves. Here are those wicked men Who loved to exercise their tyrant power On speechless brutes; bad husbands undergo A long purgation here; the traffickers In human flesh here too are disciplined. Till by their suffering they have equall'd all The miseries they inflicted, all the mass Of wretchedness caused by the wars they waged, The towns they burnt, for they who bribe to war Are guilty of the blood, the widows left In want, the slave or led to suicide, Or murdered by the foul infected air Of his close dungeon, or more sad than all, His virtue lost, his very soul enslaved, And driven by woe to wickedness. These next, Whom thou beholdest in this dreary room, So sullen, and with such an eye of hate Each on the other scowling, these have been False friends. Tormented by their own dark thoughts Here they dwell: in the hollow of their hearts There is a worm that feeds, and tho' thou seest That skilful leech who willingly would heal The ill they suffer, judging of all else By their own evil standard, they suspect The aid be vainly proffers, lengthening thus By vice its punishment." |
|