Robert Burns

To Ruin

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,
    Tho’ thick’ning and black’ning
      Round my devoted head.

And, thou grim pow’r, by life abhorr’d,
While life a pleasure can afford,
  Oh! hear a wretch’s pray’r!
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!