death-drugg'd

Updated: July 14, 2025

I could not see her gentle bosom bleed, And quite forgot the father, in the son; For her I mourn'd for her, through bitter years, Pour'd forth my soul in unavailing tears. "The world approved the act; but on my soul There lay a gnawing consciousness of guilt, A biting sense of crime, beyond control: By my rash hand a father's blood was spilt, And I abjured for aye the death-drugg'd bowl.

Susanna Moodie - Life in the Clearings versus the Bush