THE

HALL OF JUSTICE.

PART II.

Quondam ridentes oculi, nunc fonte perenni
Deplorant pœnas nocte dieque suas.

CORN. Galli Eleg.

MAGISTRATE.

COME, now again thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;
We cannot heal the throbbing heart,

Till we discern the wounds within.

Compunction weeps our guilt away,
The sinner's safety is his pain;.

Our pangs for our offences pay,
And our severest griefs are gain.

VAGRANT.

The son came back-he found us wed, Then dreadful was the oath he swore ;His way through Blackburn Forest led,His father we beheld no more.

Of all our daring clan, not one,
Would on the doubtful subject dwell;
For all esteem'd the injur'd son,

And fear'd the tale, which he could tell.

But I had mightier cause for fear,

For slow and mournful round my bed, I saw a dreadful form appear,

It came when I and Aaron wed.

(Yes! we were wed, I know my crime,We slept beneath the Elmin tree; But I was grieving all the time,

And Aaron frown'd my tears to see.

For he not yet had felt the pain,

That rankles in a wounded breast; He wak'd to sin, then slept again, Forsook his GOD, yet took his rest.-

But I was forc'd to feign delight,
And joy in mirth and music sought,--
And mem❜ry now recalls the night,

With such surprise and horror fraught, That reason felt a moment's flight,

And left a mind, to madness wrought.)

When waking, on my heaving breast,
I felt a hand as cold as death;

A sudden fear my voice suppress'd,
A chilling terror stopp'd my breath.---

I seem'd--no words can utter how!
For there my father-husband stood,
And thus he said:" Will GOD allow,'
The great avenger, just and good,
A wife, to break her marriage vow?
A son, to shed his father's blood?"

I trembled at the dismal sounds,
But vainly strove a word to say;
So, pointing to his bleeding wounds,
*The threat'ning spectre stalk'd away.

I brought a lovely daughter forth,
His father's child in Aaron's bed;
He took her from me in his wrath,

"Where is my child?"-- Thy child is dead.'

'Twas false-we wander'd far and wide, Through town and country, field and fen, Till Aaron fighting, fell and died,

And I became a wife again.

I then was young:-my husband sold,
My fancied charms for wicked price,

He gave me oft, for sinful gold,

The slave, but not the friend of vice :Behold me Heav'n! my pains behold,

And let them for my sins suffice!

* The state of mind here described, will account for a vision of this nature, without having recourse to a supernatural appearance.

The wretch who lent me thus for gain, Despis'd me when my youth was fled; Then came disease and brought me pain :Come, Death, and bear me to the dead! For though I grieve, my grief is vain, And fruitless all the tears I shed.

True, I was not to virtue train'd,
Yet well I knew my deeds were ill;
By each offence my heart was pain'd,
I wept, but I offended still;
My better thoughts my life disdain'd,
But the viler led
yet

my

will.

My Husband died, and now no more,
My smile was sought or ask'd my hand,
A widow'd vagrant, vile and poor,
Beneath a vagrant's vile command.

Ceaseless I rov'd the country round,
To win my bread by fraudful arts,
And long a poor subsistence found,
By spreading nets for simple hearts.-

Though poor, and abject, and despis'd,
Their fortunes to the crowd I told;
I gave the young the love they priz'd,
And promis'd wealth to bless the old;
Schemes for the doubtful I devis'd,
And charms for the forsaken sold.

At length for arts like these confin'd,
In prison with a lawless crew;
I soon perceiv'd a kindred mind,

And there my long-lost Daughter knew.

His Father's child, whom Aaron gave
To wander with a distant clan,

The miseries of the world to brave,
And be the slave of Vice and Man.

She knew my name-we met in pain,
Our parting pangs, can I express?
She sail'd a convict o'er the Main,
And left an heir to her distress.

This is that heir to shame and pain,
For whom I only could descry
A world of trouble and disdain :
Yet could I bear to see her die,
Or stretch her feeble hands in vain,
And weeping, beg of me supply?

No! though the fate thy Mother knew, Was shameful! shameful tho' thy race Have wander'd all, a lawless crew, Outcasts, despis'd in every place ;

Yet as the dark and muddy tide,
When far from its polluted source,

Y