Think what remorfe thy maddening thoughts fhall fting, When dying pangs their gentle bosoms tear; 46 Where shalt thou fink, when ling'ring echoes ring No! let thy bofom melt to Pity's cry, In duft we kneel-by facred Heaven implore 50 O! ftop thy lifted arm, ere yet they die, Nor dip thy horrid hands in infant gore! ANTISTROPHE II. Say, how shalt thou that barb'rous foul affume? Undamp'd by horror at the daring plan, Haft thou a heart to work thy children's doom? Or hands to finish what thy wrath began? 55 When o'er each babe you look a last adieu, And gaze on Innocence that fmiles asleep, Shall no fond feeling beat, to Nature true, Charm thee to penfive thought-and bid thee weep? 60 When the young fuppliants clafp their Parent dear, Heave the deep fob, and pour the artlefs prayer,— Aye! thou fhalt melt ;-and many a heart-shed tear Gush o'er the harden'd features of despair! Nature fhall throb in ev'ry tender string,— Thy trembling heart the ruffian's task deny ; Thy horror-fmitten hands afar fhall fling The blade, undrench'd in blood's eternal dye.! 65 In the vales of placid gladness Let no rueful maniac range; Chafe afar the fiend of madness, Wreft the dagger from Revenge! Say, haft thou, with kind protection, Rear'd thy fmiling race in vain.; Foft'ring Nature's fond affection, Tender cares, and pleafing pain? 85 Haft thou, on the troubled ocean, Brav'd the tempeft loud and ftrong, Where the waves, in wild commotion, Roar Cyanean rocks among? 90 |