Matthew Lewis (1775 – 1812)
English novelist, poet, playwright, translator and Member of Parliament.
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Hark! hark! – What mean those yells – those cries?
His chain some furious madman breaks!
He comes! I see his glaring eyes!
Now! now! my dungeon bars he shakes.
Help! Help! He's gone! Oh! fearful woe,
Such screams to hear – such sights to see!
My brain! my brain! – I know, I know
I am not mad, but soon shall be.
"Oh! hush these suspicions," Fair Imogine said,
"Offensive to Love and to me!
For if ye be living, or if ye be dead,
I swear by the Virgin, that none in your stead
Shall Husband of Imogine be."
Farewel, thou cruel world! – to morrow
No more thy scorn my heart shall tear: –
The grave will shield the child of sorrow,
And heaven will hear the orphan's prayer.
An Author, whether good or bad, or between both, is an Animal whom every body is privileged to attack; For though All are not able to write Books, all conceive themselves able to judge them.
A Warrior so bold, and a Virgin so bright
Conversed, as They sat on the green:
They gazed on each other with tender delight;
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the Knight,
The Maid's was the Fair Imogine.
The worms, They crept in, and the worms, They crept out,
And sported his eyes and his temples about,
While the Spectre addressed Imogine.
Many of the narratives can only tend to excite ideas the worst calculated for a female breast: Every thing is called plainly and roundly by its name; and the annals of a Brothel would scarcely furnish a greater choice of indecent expressions. Yet this is the Book, which young Women are recommended to study.
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