"The Maniac," by Matthew Gregory Lewis
| Transcription of The Poem The Maniac Stay jailor stay and hear my woe! She is not mad who yields to thee; For what I’m now, too well I know, And what I was, and what should be. I’ll rave no more, in proud despair; My language shall be mild, tho’ sad; But yet I firmly truely swear I am not mad; I am not mad. My tyrant husband forged the tale, Which chains one in this dismal cell; My fate unknown, my friends bewail- O jailor! haste that fate to tell; O haste my father’s heart to cheer This heart at once t’will grieve and glad To know tho kept a captive here I am not mad. I am not mad. He smiles in scorn, and turns the key; He quits the grate; I knelt in vain; His glimmering lamp still, still I see- ‘Tis gone - and all is gloom again. Cold bitter cold! no warmth! no light! Life all thy comforts once I had; Yet here I’m chained this freezing night Although not mad; no, no, not mad. ‘Tis sure some dream some vision vain; What! I- the child of rank and wealth,- Am I the wretch who clanks this chain Bereft of freedom, friends and health Ah! while I dwell on bleſsing1 fled Which never more any heart must glad, How aches my heart! how burns my head! But ‘tis not mad; no, ‘tis not mad; Hast thou my child forgot e’er this, A mother’s face, a mother’s tongue? She ne’er forget your parting kiſs Nor round her neck how fast you clung; Nor how with her you sued to stay; Nor how that suit your sire forbade; Nor how- I’ll drive such thoughts away; They’ll make me mad, they’ll make me mad. His rosy lips how sweet they smiled! His mild blue eyes how bright they shone! None ever bore a lovelier child; And art there now forever gone? And must I never see the more, My pretty, pretty, pretty lad? I will be free, unbar the door! I am not mad; I am not mad, O, hark! what mean those yells & cries? His chain some furious madman breaks; He comes,- I see his glaring eyes, Now, now my dungeon-grate he shakes Help! help! - He’s gone! - O, fearful woe! Such screams to hear, such sights to see! My brain My brain- I know I know I am not mad but soon shall be Yes soon; for lo yon- while I speak- Mark how yon demon’s eyeballs glare! He sees me now with dreadful shriek, He whirls a serpent high in air Horror! the reptile strikes his tooth Deep in my heart so crush’d and sad Ah, laugh ye fiends;- I feel the truth Your task is done- I’m mad! I’m mad! Lewis 1 The ſ is a long s. | Information About The Poem Biography of Matthew Gregory Lewis (1775-1818) Description of the Poem's Formal Elements Explication of This Poem |
