Lady Caroline Lamb

William Lamb's Return From Paris: Asking Me My Wish

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You ask my wish--the boon I crave,
O grant it--leave me what I have:
Leave me to rest upon my bed,
With broken heart, and weary head.

No stormy passions now arise,
Nor tears relieve these suffering eyes;
No age--no love disturbs me now,
To God's avenging power I bow.

You've yielded to a wicked crew,
Who ruin me, and laugh at you;
Sweep out the gore, and while you can,
Think for yourself, and be a man.

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