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Title: Mille Viae Mortis
Author: Charles Lamb [
More Titles by Lamb]
(1789)
What time in bands of slumber all were laid,
To Death's dark court, methought I was convey'd;
In realms it lay far hid from mortal sight,
And gloomy tapers scarce kept out the night.
On ebon throne the King of Terrors sate;
Around him stood the ministers of Fate;
On fell destruction bent, the murth'rous band
Waited attentively his high command.
Here pallid Fear & dark Despair were seen.
And Fever here with looks forever lean,
Swoln Dropsy, halting Gout, profuse of woes,
And Madness fierce & hopeless of repose,
Wide-wasting Plague; but chief in honour stood
More-wasting War, insatiable of blood;
With starting eye-balls, eager for the word;
Already brandish'd was the glitt'ring sword.
Wonder and fear alike had fill'd my breast,
And thus the grisly Monarch I addrest--
"Of earth-born Heroes why should Poets sing,
And thee neglect, neglect the greatest King?
To thee ev'n Caesar's self was forc'd to yield
The glories of Pharsalia's well-fought field."
When, with a frown, "Vile caitiff, come not here,"
Abrupt cried Death; "shall flatt'ry soothe my ear?"
"Hence, or thou feel'st my dart!" the Monarch said.
Wild terror seiz'd me, & the vision fled.
[The end]
Charles Lamb's poem: Mille Viae Mortis
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