On the dreadful Earthquake which happened at Messina in Sicily

Celestial Muse! in whisp'ring dreams descend,
T' inspire my humble strains thy influence lend,
The sad disastrous direful tale to tell,
In mournful numbers, how Messina fell;
How one sad blast her pride t' oblivion hurl'd,
And fill'd with awe th' astonish'd trembling world.
And shall my bold advent'rous pen then dare
Chuse for its theme the elemental war?
Describe the op'ning earth, conflicting seas,
The roaring thunder, and the light'ning's blaze,
Till one wide scene of devastation's wrought —
Advent'rous theme! I shudder at the thought.
The poor inhabitant, untouch'd with dread,
Ne'er dreamt of ruin hanging o'er his head,
When lo! from Ætna's top the dreadful storm
Impetuous bursts, defaces nature's form;
And livid streams of liquid sulphur pour
Death and destruction in one fatal shower:
Beneath the op'ning gulph presents a tomb,
And swallows thousands in its yawning womb.
The swelling seas in wild confusion roar,
Forget their bounds, and overspread the shore;
The tumbling towers, the tott'ring rocks declare,
A rueful scene of horror and despair,
The helpless few, whom fortune saves alive,
But to new scenes of misery survive;
Where late their home, their friendly mansions stood,
Devouring famine fixes her abode;
Whilst pestilential arrows load each breath,
And every gale's inevitable death.
Oh sensibility! look all around,
Is there one human heart so callous found,
So destitute of feeling at this hour,
To scorn thy influence, and deride thy power?
Or at this scene of misery can forbear,
To pay the tribute of a gushing tear?
Here hold my muse — I drop my feeble quill,
And own the mighty task beyond my skill;
So deep, so complicated the distress,
Tears best can paint it, silence best express.
'Twas thus the painter Agamemnon drew,
When at that last, that fatal interview,
Iphigenia trembling at the altar stood,
The victim doom'd to stain it with her blood;
This dreadful scene, where mingling passions rise,
Convulse the frame, and sparkle in the eyes,
He knew his liveliest colours would disgrace,
So veil'd the fond distracted father's face.
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