Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE POWER OF INNOCENCE, by C. G." "H. [PSEUD.]


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE POWER OF INNOCENCE, by                    
First Line: "a northern pair, we waive the name, / rich, young and not unknown to fame"
Last Line: "ye that have passions for a tear, / give nature vent, and drop it here!"
Alternate Author Name(s): "h., C. G.;
Subject(s): Divorce


A NORTHERN pair, we waive the name,
Rich, young and not unknown to fame,
When first the nuptial state they tried,
With poets' gods in pleasure vied.
New to the mighty charm, they feel
A joy that all their looks reveal.
We love whate'er has pow'r to please,
So Nature's ancient law decrees;
And thus the pair, while each had pow'r
To bless the fond, sequestered hour,
With mutual love enraptured glow,
And love in kind complaisance show.
But when familiar charms no more
Inspire the bliss they gave before,
Each less delighting, less was loved:
Now this, now that was disapproved;
Some trifling fault, which love concealed,
Indiff'rence ev'ry day revealed.
Complaisance flies, neglect succeeds,
Neglect disdain and hatred breeds.
The wish to please forsakes the breast,
The wish to rule has each possessed.
Perpetual war, that wish to gain,
They wage, alas! but wage in vain.
Now hope of conquest swells the heart
No more—at length content to part.
The rural seat, that sylvan shade,
Where first the nuptial vows were paid,
That seat attests the dire intent,
And hears the parting settlement.
This house, these fields my lady's own,
Sir John must ride to town alone.
The chariot waits—they bid adieu;
But still the chariot was in view.
Tom tires with waiting long in doubt,
And lights a pipe—and smokes it out—
Mysterious! wherefore this delay?
The sequel shall the cause display.
One lovely girl the lady bore,
Dear pledge of joys she tastes no more;
The father's, mother's darling, she
Now lisped and prattled at their knee.
Sir John, now rising to depart,
Turned to the darling of his heart,
And cried, with ardour in his eye,
'Come, Betsey, bid mamma goodbye.'
The lady, trembling, answered, 'No—
Go, kiss papa, my Betsey, go.
Sir John, the child shall live with me.'—
'The child herself shall choose,' said he.
Poor Betsey looked at each by turns,
And each the starting tear discerns.
My lady asks, with doubt and fear,
'Will you not live with me, my dear?'
'Yes,' half-resolved, replied the child,
And, half-suppressed her tears, she smiled.
'Come, Betsey,' cried Sir John, 'you'll go
And live with dear papa, I know.'
'Yes,' Betsey cried. The lady then
Addressed the wond'ring child again:
'The time to live with both is o'er;This day we part to meet no more:
Choose then'—here grief o'erflowed her breast,
And tears broke out, too long suppressed.
The child, who tears and chiding joined,
Supposed papa displeased, unkind;
And tried, with all her little skill,
To soothe his oft-relenting will.
'Do,' cried the lisper, 'Pappy! do
Love dear mamma!—Mamma loves you!'
Subdued the force of manly pride,
No more his looks his heart belied;
The tender transport forced its way,
They both confessed each other's sway;
And prompted by the social smart,
Breast rushed to breast, and heart to heart.
Each clasp their Betsey o'er and o'er,
And Tom drove empty from the door.

Ye that have passions for a tear,
Give nature vent, and drop it here!





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