T R(1 / 1)
to ru
all hail! exorable lord!
at whose destruction-breathg word,
the ightiest epires fall!
thy cruel, woe-delighted tra,
the isters of grief and pa,
a sullen wele, all!
with stern-relv&039;d, despairg eye,
i see each aid dart;
for one has cut y dearest tie,
and ivers y heart
then low&039;rg, and pourg,
the stor no ore i dread;
tho&039; thick&039;ng, and bck&039;ng,
round y devoted head
and thou gri pow&039;r by life abhorr&039;d,
while life a pleasure can afford,
oh! hear a wretch&039;s pray&039;r!
nor ore i shrk appall&039;d, afraid;
i urt, i beg thy friendly aid,
to close this scene of care!
when shall y ul, silent peace,
resign life&039;s joyless day—
y weary heart its throbbg cease,
ld ould&039;rg the cy?
no fear ore, no tear ore,
to sta y lifeless face,
encsped, and grasped,
with thy ld ebrace!
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