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• 1 2016-09-20T11:22:15-07:00 "The Maniac," by Matthew Gregory Lewis 16 Page compiled by Anthony Tamberrino gallery 2016-12-06T12:07:39-08:00
   

  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