Page:The cry for justice - an anthology of the literature of social protest. - (IA cryforjusticea00sinc).pdf/635

 Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square— The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy! Sure these denote one universal joy! Are these thy serious thoughts? Ah! turn thine eyes Where the poor, houseless, shivering female lies; She once, perhaps, in village plenty blest, Has wept at tales of innocence distrest; Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn; Now lost to all—her friends, her virtue fled— Near her betrayer's door she lays her head; And, pinched with cold, and shrinking from the shower, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour When, idly first, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel, and robes of country brown

O luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree, How ill exchanged are things like these for thee! How do thy potions, with insidious joy, Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown, Boast of a florid vigor not their own. At every draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe; Till sapped their strength, and every part unsound, Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round.