ODES. 1C9 



0^ THE DEATH OF DERMODY, THE POET. 



Child of misfortune ! offspring of the muse ! 

 JMark like the meteor's gleam, his mad career 3 

 AVith hoUuw cheeks and haggard eye, 

 Behold, he shrieking passes by ; 



I see, I see him near : 

 That hollow scream, that deepening groan ; 

 It rings upon mine ear. 



Oh come, ye thoughtless, ye deluded youth. 

 Who clasp the syren Pleasure to your breast 

 Behold the wreck of Genius here ; 

 And drop, oh drop the silent tear 



For Dermody at rest ; 

 His fate is yours, then from your loins 

 Tear quick the silken vest. 



Saw'st thou his dying bed ! Saw'st thou his eyes, 

 Once flashing fire, despair's dim tear distil ; 

 How ghastly did it seem ; 

 And then his dying scream ; 

 Oh God ! I hear it still : 

 It sounds upon my fainting sense, 

 It strikes with deathly chill. 



Say, didst thou mark the brilliant poet's death ; 

 Saw'st thou an anxious father by his bed. 

 Or pitying friends around him stand ? 

 Or didst thou see a mothers hand 



Support his languid head ? 

 Oh none of these — no friend o'er him 

 The balm of pity shed. 



