To Ruin (Poem by Robert Burns)

the Old Poems

To Ruin (1)
By Robert Burns

All hail! inexorable lord!
At whose destruction-breathing word,
    The mightiest empires fall!
Thy cruel, woe-delighted train,
The ministers of grief and pain,
    A sullen welcome, all!
With stern-resolv’d, despairing eye,
    I see each aimed dart;
For one has cut my dearest tie,
    And quivers in my heart.
        Then low’ring and pouring,
            The storm no more I dread;
        Though thick’ning and black’ning,
            Round my devoted head.

To Ruin (2)

And thou grim pow’r, by life abhorr’d,
While life a pleasure can afford,
    Oh! hear a wretch’s prayer!
No more I shrink appall’d, afraid;
I court, I beg thy friendly aid,
    To close this scene of care!
When shall my soul, in silent peace,
    Resign life’s joyless day;
My weary heart its throbbings cease,
    Cold mould’ring in the clay?
        No fear more, no tear more,
            To stain my lifeless face;
        Enclasped, and grasped
            Within thy cold embrace!

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