To Ruin

I
ALL hail! inexorable lord!
At whose destruction-breathing word,
The mightiest empires fall!
Thy cruel, woe-delighted train,
The ministers of Grief and Pain,
A sullen welcome, all!
With stern-resolv'd, despairing eye,
I see each aimed dart;
For one has cut my dearest tye,
And quivers in my heart.
Then low'ring and pouring,
The Storm no more I dread;
Tho' thick'ning and black'ning
Round my devoted head.

II
Now thou grim Pow'r, by Life abhorr'd,
While Life a pleasure can afford,
Oh! hear a wretch's pray'r!
No more I shrink appall'd, afraid;
I court, I beg thy friendly aid,
To close this scene of care!
When shall my soul, in silent peace,
Resign Life's joyless day?
My weary heart it’s throbbings cease,
Cold-mould'ring in the clay?
No fear more, no tear more,
To stain my lifeless face,
Enclasped and grasped
Within thy cold embrace!