No! let thy bosom melt to Pity's cry,—

In dust we kneel-by sacred Heaven implore-
O! stop thy lifted arm, ere yet they die,
Nor dip thy horrid hands in infant gore!

ANTISTROPHE II.

Say, how shalt thou that barbarous soul assume,
Undamp'd by horror at the daring plan?
Hast thou a heart to work thy children's doom?
Or hands to finish what thy wrath began?

When o'er each babe you look a last adieu,

And gaze on Innocence that smiles asleep, Shall no fond feeling beat to Nature true,

Charm thee to pensive thought—and bid thee weep?

When the young suppliants clasp their parent dear,

Heave the deep sob, and pour the artless prayer,— Ay! thou shalt melt ;-and many a heart-shed tear Gush o'er the harden'd features of despair!

Nature shall throb in every tender string,-
Thy trembling heart the ruffian's task deny ;—
Thy horror-smitten hands afar shall fling

The blade, undrench'd in blood's eternal dye.

CHORUS.

Hallow'd Earth! with indignation

Mark, oh mark, the murderous deed!

Radiant eye of wide creation,

Watch th' accursed infanticide

Yet, ere Colchia's rugged daughter
Perpetrate the dire design,
And consign to kindred slaughter
Children of thy golden line!

Shall mortal hand, with murder gory,
Cause immortal blood to flow!
Sun of Heaven!-array'd in glory
Rise, forbid, avert the blow!

In the vales of placid gladness
Let no rueful maniac range;
Chase afar the fiend of Madness,
Wrest the dagger from Revenge!

Say, hast thou, with kind protection, Rear'd thy smiling race in vain ; Fostering Nature's fond affection, Tender cares, and pleasing pain?

Hast thou, on the troubled ocean, Braved the tempest loud and strong, Where the waves, in wild commotion, Roar Cyanean rocks among?

Didst thou roam the paths of danger,
Hymenean joys to prove?
Spare, O sanguinary stranger,
Pledges of thy sacred love!

Ask not Heaven's commiseration,
After thou hast done the deed;
Mercy, pardon, expiation,

Perish when thy victims bleed.

Placed midst the fox glove and the moss,

Behold a parted warriors cross!