OH, Madness! worst of ev’ry ill!
‘Twere mercy more the wretch to kill,
Than thou should’st give the blow:
Come racking grief, the frame destroy;
Come agony, thy smart is joy,
To Madness trifling woe.
Of Madness, see the tortur’d child,
First shedding tears, then laughing wild,
And then convulsive groan:
Then comes Despair, with wide-stretch’d eye,
Tearing the soul with agony;
Or hear the harrowing moan.
See the damp cheek of pallid Dread,
Quick mantling, mount to furious red,
Or glow with feverish pink:
Or see him shrink, and shivering sigh,
With quiv’ring lip and glassy eye,
And then exhausted sink.
Deep Melancholy rules by fits,
Then gloomy Madness moping sits,
Or straw, unmeaning, ties.
When oft, to shun the fancied lash,
From dizzying heights they fearless dash,
And thus the victim dies.
(Charlotte Dacre)
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