ame is not his fear;
He who can vouch the solemn lie,
Would shew his forehead any where.

While Innocence meets punishment,
While Falshood can produce such woes,
Mercy's self must needs lament
Perjury not more punish'd goes.

Dubious may be the Culprit's case,
Though clear and open all his ways;
What Life is proof 'gainst dire disgrace,
If guileful hate his act pourtrays?

Ye Jurors cautiously proceed,
When the question's left to you,
Not 'Has the Culprit done the deed?'
But 'Was the deed a crime to do?'[10]

Grudge not deliberation's time,
Lest you should be too severe;
When Justice must believe a crime,
She lends it her most tardy ear.

How short is this momentous hour!
O! how swift the minutes fly!
Soon the Jurors, arm'd with power,
Will come to bid me live or die.

Pointed thoughts of Life and Death,
Anxious sore solicitude,
Shake my frame, suspend my breath,
When Terror's gloomy shades protrude.

But when Hope cheers me with the sound
Of Mercy's voice, of Mercy's plea,
And tells me Mercy will be found
Amongst the twelve to speak for me,

Rapt Fancy hears the Cherub plead: ...
Propitious is the Culprit's fate,
If one, by tender mercy sway'd,
Amongst the Jurors takes his seat.

One who will meek-ey'd Mercy's laws
Oppose to Rigour's doubtful rule ...
Nor quit the hapless Culprit's cause,
Though sterner Judgements deem him fool.

Blessings that wait his heart, his tongue,
Cannot elate his tranquil breast:
He courts no blessing from the throng;
He is, and ever will be, blest.

He shall win the Jury's ear,
Pity glist'ning in his eye;
Let us not be too severe....
If we let the Culprit die,

Fruitlessly we may bewail
In future, should our hearts relent:
O! then let Mercy's voice prevail;
Mercy we can ne'er repent.

Mercy smiles, and every face
Reflects the Cherub's aspect meek;
Glowing with her resistless grace,
Mercy beams on every cheek.

Hope, thy presage cannot fail.
Bid my Mary cease to mourn;
Surely Mercy shall prevail,
And I to Love and Life return.

Shall I the lenient Verdict hear,
Thrilling through my shivering frame?
Ye Jurors, clad in smiles appear,
To realize this happy dream.

Their Deliberation's o'er,
How shall I the Crisis meet?
Hark! I hear the opening door: ...
Sile