Supposed to have been written in America. ILL-omen`d bird! whose cries portentous float O`er yon savannah with the mournful wind; While, as the Indian hears your piercing note, Dark dread of future evil fills his mind; Wherefore with early lamentation break The dear delusive visions of repose? Why from so short felicity awake My wounded senses to substantial woes? O`er my sick soul thus rous`d from transient rest, Pale Superstition sheds her influence drear, And to my shuddering fancy would suggest Thou com`st to speak of ev`ry woe I fear, Ah! Reason little o`er the soul prevails, When, from ideal ill, the enfeebled spirit fails!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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