Classic Poem

In my early years nothing less would serve me than courting the tragic Muse. — I was, I think, about eighteen or nineteen when I sketched the outlines of a Tragedy forsooth; but the bursting of a cloud of family Misfortunes, which had for some time threatened us, prevented my farther progress. — In those days I never wrote down anything; so, except a speech or two, the whole has escaped my memory. — The following, which I most distinctly remember, was an exclamation from a great character — great in occasional instance[s] of generosity, and daring at times in villainies. — He is supposed to meet with a child of misery, and exclaims to himself —

All devil as I am, a damned wretch,
A harden'd, stubborn, unrepenting villain,
Still my heart melts at human wretchedness;
And with sincere tho' unavailing sighs
I view the helpless children of Distress.
With tears indignant I behold th' Oppressor,
Rejoicing in the honest man's destruction,
Whose unsubmitting heart was all his crime.

Even you, ye hapless crew, I pity you;
Ye, whom the Seeming good think sin to pity;
Ye poor, despis'd, abandon'd vagabonds,
Whom Vice, as usual, has turn'd o'er to Ruin.
O, but for kind, tho' ill-requited friends,
I had been driven forth like you forlorn,
The most detested, worthless wretch among you!

O injur'd God! Thy goodness has endow'd me
With talents passing most of my compeers,
Which I in just proportion have abus'd;
As far surpassing other common villains
As Thou in natural parts hadst given me more —