Ingratitude
Dublin Core
Title
Ingratitude
Description
There is a crime of blackest die,
Which man, on brother man commits;
And well this trait of infamy,
His dark unfeeling breast befits.
It is no foulest homicide,
The felon hath a purer heart;
Not sacrilege that I deride!
Though this would make a demon start.
Go, search the code of wickedness,
You'll find it not inscribed there,
But to one lone and dark recess,
Of man successfully repair.
There in his primal horror stalks,
This fiend with aspect coarse and rude,
All love and sympathy he mocks,
His name is vile Ingratitude!
Which man, on brother man commits;
And well this trait of infamy,
His dark unfeeling breast befits.
It is no foulest homicide,
The felon hath a purer heart;
Not sacrilege that I deride!
Though this would make a demon start.
Go, search the code of wickedness,
You'll find it not inscribed there,
But to one lone and dark recess,
Of man successfully repair.
There in his primal horror stalks,
This fiend with aspect coarse and rude,
All love and sympathy he mocks,
His name is vile Ingratitude!
Creator
Arion
Source
2:3, p. 23
Date
1828.04.11
Collection
Citation
Arion, “Ingratitude,” Periodical Poets, accessed May 4, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/126.
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