In vain th' historic Muse shall weeping try The wrongs to shew of Gallia's martyr'd Queen; In vain shall painting to the languid eye Present the horrors of the fatal scene! Ah! what her various suff'rings can relate, Her awful dignity, her mute disdain, With all the fell extremes of ruffian hate, Like the bold force of thy empassion'd strain. Yet as we sigh along the mournful tale, And drop the frequent tribute of a tear, The Muse spreads flow'rs o'er sorrow's dreary vale, With passing sweets the fainting soul to cheer. While Pity, sunk amid such dire alarms, Is sooth'd by Fancy's animating charms.
