Classic Poem

Ill fated Chatterton! for Thee I raise
A mingled Lay of Censure and of Praise!
Bright Star of Genius! torn from Life and Fame,
My tears, my Verse, shall consecrate thy name!
Ye Muses! who around his natal bed
Bestowed your Gifts, and all your influence shed;
Apollo! that didst fire his infant breast,
And, in his genuine Numbers, shine confest,
Ah! why on him such sensate Nerves bestow,
To heighten torture to the child of Woe!
Thou haggard Poverty! whose cheerless eye
Makes note of Rapture change to deepest sigh,
Subdued by thee, his pen no more obeys,
No more revives the song of Ancient Days,
Check'd in her flight his lofty Genius cowers,
Locks her faint wings, and yields to thee her powers!
Behold him Muses! see your favorite son,
The prey of Want ere Manhood is begun,
The Heart, which You inspired, with Anguish torn,
The Mind you cherish'd, drooping and forlorn!
See now! Despair her sable form extends,
Creeps to his couch, and o'er his pillow bends!
Ah, see! a deadly bowl, till now concealed,
Before his eyes is gradually revealed,
Some Spirit seize it! seize the liquid snare,
Cast it to earth, or dissipate in air —
Stay, hapless Youth! refrain, abhor the draught,
With racking pangs, with deep Repentance, fraught!
Oh, hold! the Cup with Woe ETERNAL flows,
More, more than Death! the pois'nous juice bestows.
In vain! — He drinks — see how the searching fires
Rush through his veins! see, writhing, he expires!
No sorrowing friend, no Sister, Parent, nigh,
To sooth his pangs, or catch his parting sigh.
Alone, unknown, the Muse's Favorite dies,
And, with the vulgar dead, unnoted lies!
Bright Star of Genius! torn from Life and Fame,
My tears, my Verse, shall consecrate thy name!