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"If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee."-Shaks.
BORN in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
She taught the child to read, and taught so well,
That she herself, by teaching, learn'd to spell.
None know-but that high Soul secured the heart,
With longing breast and undeluded ear.
Which Flattery fool'd not-Baseness could not blind,
Deceit infect not-near Contagion soil
Indulgence weaken-nor Example spoil
Nor master'd Science tempt her to look down
Nor Fortune change-Pride raise-nor Passion bow,
But wanting one sweet weakness-to forgive,
But to the theme:-now laid aside too long
And leave the venom there she did not find;
To make a Pandemonium where she dwells,
Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints
While mingling truth with falsehood-sneers with smiles-
Look on her features! and behold her mind
Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged-
Oh! wretch without a tear-without a thought,
May the strong curse of crush'd affections light
Look on thine earthly victims and despair!
Down to the dust!-and, as thou rott'st away,
WHEN all around grew drear and dark, And reason half withheld her rayAnd hope but shed a dying spark Which more misled my lonely way;
In that deep midnight of the mind,
When fortune changed and love fled far, And hatred's shafts flew thick and fast,
Thou wert the solitary star
Which rose and set not to the last.
Oh! blest be thine unbroken light!