Penny Dreadfuls, 1812 · page 244 of 258
Psyche, and other poems — page 244: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 226: Poetry This page contains verse (numbered 226), appearing to be from the middle of a serialized story rather than a title or cover page. The poem expresses intense emotional and spiritual anguish—a speaker struggles with mortality, terror, and the bonds of earthly love while attempting to embrace heavenly transcendence. The verse addresses those who comfort the dying and those loved ones whose presence the speaker will soon lose forever. The tone is melodramatic and Gothic, typical of Victorian sensation fiction, dwelling on death, regret, and the soul's conflicting attachments to earthly versus spiritual realms.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
226 : But ob! in every mortal pang ; That rends my soul from life, That soul, which seems on you to hang Through each convulsive strife, Even now, with agonizing grasp Of terror and regret, To all in life its love would clasp — Clings close and closer yet. Yet why, immortal, vital spark ! Thus mortally opprest ? Look up, my soul, through prospects dark, And bid thy terrors rest ; Forget, forego thy earthly part, Thine heavenly being trust :-~- Ah, vain attempt! my coward heart Still shuddering clings to dust. Oh ye! who sooth the pangs of death With love’s own patient care, Still, still retain this fleeting breath, Still pour the fervent prayer :— And ye, whose smile must greet my eye No more, nor voice my ear, Who breathe for me the tender sigh, And shed the pitying tear, COMIC OOKS.COMn