Page:The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems.pdf/115



Thus o'er the southern climes, luxuriant lands, Where spreads the olive, where the vine expands; The dread volcano bids the torrent sweep, Rolls the fierce lava burning down the steep; Life, beauty, verdure, fated to destroy, Blast every bloom, and wither every joy! Sweet orange-groves, with fruits and blossoms fair, Which breath'd the soul of fragrance on the air; Vineyards that blush'd, with mantling clusters grac'd, Gay domes, erected by the hand of taste; These mingled all in one resistless fire, Flame to the skies, fair nature's funeral pyre!

Ambition! vainly wouldst thou gild thy name, With specious rays of conquest and of fame; Truth waves her wand! from her all-piercing eye, From her Ithuriel-spear, thy glories fly! In vain to thee may suppliant mercy kneel, Plead with soft voice, and deprecate the steel!