'Midst gloomy scenes and prospects drear;

  My weary mind, in various ways

    Seeking Hope, still finds Despair.

  This thought a weight of woe imparts,

    At once to sink a wretch like me;

  What can I hope, if human hearts

    Delight in human misery?

  Tortur'd by severe suspense,

    I the Jurors' Verdict wait,

  Ere I may depart from hence,

    Their decision seals my fate.

  Now withdrawn, their close debate

    Admits no curious, list'ening ear,

  But the result's so big with fate,

    The Culprit must in thought be there.

  And now, led on by sad despair,

    Does a frightful form obtrude;

  Vindictive Spleen assumes the air

    Of noble, manly Fortitude.

  And thus I hear the Demon say,

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