Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1834-07-31
POETRY.


The following lines, descriptive of scene in a
private Mad House, are from the pen Of NJ. G.
LEWIS. Esq. They were published in the Nation
al Intellgencer, about years slrce, the Editors
Of which paper introduced them with these re.
narks;-"If any one can read the following lines
without shudderng in sympathy with the suPpos-
cd captive, he must have heart dead to every
humane feeling. The perusa Of them had the
more effect upon US, from the conviction we have
for some time entertained, that insanity, when
superinduced (not natural) )-when it is an afiee-
ton Of the mind, aud not defect Of organiza-
tion-is often the consequence Of the treatment Of
the disease-not merely Of the estrungement Of
friends; Of seclusion from the world; of coercion;
but Of the horrible dread Of being thought mad by
others. We recolect hearing Of the case Of an
enlightened Physician, who was carried by his
friends TO an Asylum for the Insane, after exhibi-
ting symptoms Of an alienation Of mind-"My
God am ! come to this' Never shall leave
these walls" he died within thenl not ma
ny days after"
SCENE IN A PRIVATE MAD HOUSE.
Stay, jailer, stay, and hear my woe!
She is not mad who kneels to thee,
For what I'm now. too well know,
And what was, and what should be,
III rave no more in proud despair,
My language shall be mild though sad;
Bat yet I'll firmly, truly swear.
am not mad; | am not mad!
My tyrant husband forged the tale
Which chains mo in this dismal cell,
My fate unknown! my friends bewa!-
Oh! jailer, haste that fate to tell!
Oh! Ia ste, my fathers heart to cheer;
His heart at once twill grieve and glad,
To know, though kept captive here,
am not mad! am not mad!
fIe smiles in scorn. md turns the key.
lie quits the CRATE! knelt in vain!
His glimm' ring lamp STILL still see!
lis gone-and all is gloom again!
Cold, bitter cod-no warmth! no light!
Life, all thy comforts once had!
Yet here Pm chained this freezing night,
Although not mad! no, no! not mad!
'ris sure some dream, some vision vain!
What! ], the child Of rank and wealth.
And |, the wretch who clanks this chain,
Bereit Of freedom, friends and health!
All! while dwell on blessings fled,
Which never more my heart must glad,
How aches my heart! how burns my head,
But it's not mad-no, it's not mad.
Hast thou, my child, forgot ere this,
A mothers face, a mothers tongue'
She'll ne'er forget your parting kiss,
Nor round her neck how fast you clung;
Nor how with me, you saed TO stay,
Nor how that suit your sire forbade;
ho< k,.. L.. al. L..
They II make me mad they II make me mad
His rosy lips, how sweet they smiled
His mild blue eyes, how bright they shone-
None ever bore Iovelier child
And art thou now forever gone,
And must ] never see thee more,
My pretty, pretty little lad!
tCiH be free-unbar the door
l am not mad--I am not mad!
o, hark-what mean those dreadful cries,
His chain, some furious madmsn breaks
lie comes see his garing eyes
Now, now, my dungeon CRATE he shakes
Help-help!-l gone --Oh-- fearful woe,
Such screams to hear, such sights to see
My brain, my brain-i know, know
am not mad-but soon shall be.
Yes, soon.-For 10 yon,-while speak
Mark how yon demons eye-baIs glare
He sees me--now, with dreadful shrek,
lie whirls a serpent high in air.
Ilonor--the reptile strikes his tooth
De in my heart crushed and sud-
Aye, laugh, ye Gends, feel the truth
Your task is done, I'm mad - I'm mad,