Star.
London, England, 1826-10-31 00:00:00

THE GAMESTER.

!ROM ACKIIRMANN'iI " FORORT Ma NOS," FOR 1827.

ST UR& CORYWILL SAUK WILSON.

See where the Victim stands!—not crown'd with Sowers,
But composed round by fiends :—his haggard cheek,
His beamless eye; what tell they? Of lost boars.
With mute, but dreadful eloquence they speak!
Of fame and fortune blighted, lopes betray'd,
And all the fearful wreck one durishl eke has made!
Hark to yon hollow laugh of &aerate mirth,
That while it fires the brain, and lights the eye,
Sounds the last knell of peace; owing its bbrlb
To the fierce pangs of mental agony. - •
'Ti. the convulsive joy of wild Despair
Wrung from the tortured heart—a joy that Demons share !
Oh, love of play ! so called to Fashion's phrasal,
Slighter of social hearts and ;baulk! hours ;
Canlerer of manhood's fair abd opening days,
That but for thee bad else been strewn with lowers;
Thou direst passion of the human heart,
None but a master's hand can paint thsk u thou art!
Oh ! vice of all most hurtful to the soil,
Climax of ev'ry ether vice—the mind
That 'nee acknowledges tby fell contrail
Spreads desolation round it ; like the wind
That sweeps the desert in its phased wrath,
Shedding where'er it breathes destruction in its path!
Oh. vice of all most deadly ! on th shrine
Nature's soft links, Love's sweet and holy ties,
Fall early victinss--all the bonds that twine
• Around man's heart, light upoksacrifice
More cruel than on Beasnab's Mood-stained pyre,
Where Hindus mothers joy to see their babes mire!

Fame—lsonour—fortune—eff are swept away,
Ali swell the gen'ral wreck,:—why stands he SW
A ruin`d, hopeless wretch?—Eta breaks the day,
He gotta the scene of plunder ;—in his ear
Ring the still rattling dice ;—.ltis throbbing brain
Is crowded now with thoughts, that ne'er shall rest again!
Rushing with horror, through the silent streets, •
And shrinking from himself, be seeks his coma!
• (Once 'twas a happy one) :—his pale wife greets
Hie eriak'd return with smiles;—bow can man rosin
Went woman's calm en9earments to partake
Those scenes that of his soul a leafless desert make?
lins has hsten'd with a beating heart
To very passing footstep—Sea has told
Rack linering bour's dull chime with frequent start
And tears that none might chide and ogee behold;
And she has her infant in its sleep,
Fraying that Heaves from hist such fatal vice may keep
But now she meets the Lost-one with a smile
That would seem cheerful, lave that her pale brow
And faded cheek tell other tales the while
Of sufferings which bee lips will ne'er avow :
Fondly she clasps the wanderer to her breast—
Alas ! not wen sums can his wreck'd heart and rest !
She leads him to the coed where calmly sleeps
His beuar'd child;-14w e'en the Gamerrea's sod
Owns all a Firsaa's feelings!—See, be weeps—
(hut they are tears that madden as they roll)--
Oh ! drops, by years of anguish cheaply bought,
Could ye but wash away the ruin ye bare brought!
It may not be!—already on his brow,
Cain-likeis ausupt the burning mark of shame ;
And the chill hand of Scorn is pointing now
Its withering linger at his blighted name :
It may not be!--ere sinks another Sun,
Self murder crowns his guilt—Dante* last work is done !