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Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate In act no trifle, and no blank in time. Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the sudden This greatens, fills, immortalizes ald: diead;

This, the blest art of turning all to gold; But their hearts founded, like the wounded air, This, the good heart's prerogative to raise Soon close;" here país d the shaft, no trace is found: A royal tributo, from the pooreit hours. els, from the wing no icar the tky retains; Immense revenue! every moment pays. The parted wave no furrow from the kech; If nothing more than purpose in thy power, So dies in human hcarts the thought of death : Thy purpose firm, is equal to the dood: Ev'n with the tender tear which nature sheds Who does the bett his circumliance allows, Oer those we love, we drop it in their grave. Does well, acts nobly ; angels could no more. Can I forget Philander: that were strange; Our outward act, indeed, admits restraint; O my full heart! but thould I give it vent, 'Tis not in things o'er thought to domincer; The longest night, tho' longer far, would fail, Guard well thy thoughts; our thoughts are heard And the lark listen to my midnight fong.

in heaven.

On all-important time, thro' every age, $189. NIGHT 11. Avarice of Time recommended. Tho' much, and warm, the wise havc urg'd; the H Н TE mourns the dead, who lives as they desire. Is yet unborn, who duly weighs an hour. (mar

Where is that thrift, that avarice of Time, “I've lost a day"--the prince who nobly cry'd, (Bleft av 'rice !) which the thought of death in- Had been an emperor without his crown; Spires.

He spoke, as if deputed by mankind. O time! than gold more facred ; more a load So should all speak : fo rcafon speaks in all : Than lead, to fools; and fools reputed wile. From the soft whispers of that God in man, What moment granted man without account? Why fly to folly, why to phrensy fly, What ycars are quander'd, wisdom's debt unpaid ? For rescue from the blefling we poffels ? Hafte, haste, he lies in wait, hc's at the door, Time, the supreme !-Time is eternity; Insidious death, should his strong hand arrest, Pregnant with all eternity can give, No composition sets the prisoner free. Pregnant with all that makes arch-angels smile. Eternity's inexorable chain

Who murders time, he crushes in the birth Fast binds; and vengeance claims the full arrear. A pow'r ethercal, only not ador’d.

How late I shudder'd on the brink ! how late
Life callid for her laft refuge in despair!

§ 190. Inconsistency of Man.
For what calls thy disease for moral aid.
Thou think 'ft it folly to be wile too soon. AH! how unjuft to nature, and himself,
Youth is not rich in time; it may be, poor :

Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man Part with it as with money, fparing ; pay

Like children babbling nonsense in their sports,

We censure nature for a span too fhort ;
No moment, but in purchase of its worth:
And what its worth, atk death-beds, they can tell. That span too lhort, we tax as tedious too ;
Pare with it as with life, reluctant; big

Torture invention, all expedients tire,

To lafa the ling'ring moments into speed;
With holy hope of nobler time to come.
Is this our duty, wisdom, glory, gain?

And whirl us (happy riddance) from ourselves.

Art, brainless art! our furious charioteer,
And sport we like the natives of the bough,
When vernal suns inspire ? Amusement reigns

Drives headlong towards the precipice of death ;

Death, mott our dread; death thus more dreadful Man's grcat demand : to trifle is to live:

O what a riddle of absurdity! And is it then a trifle, too, to die?


Lcisure is pain ; take off our chariot-wheels : Wło wants amusement in the Aame of battle ? Is it not trcafon to the soul immortal,

How heavily we drag the load of life!

Blest leisure is our curse, like that of Cain
Her fous in arms, eternity the prize ?

It makes us wander; wander earth around
Will toys amust, when mcd'cincs cannot cure ?
When Ipirits ebb, when life's inchanting scenes

To fly that tyrant, Thought. As Atlas groan'd Their lütire lose, and leffen in our light?

The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour. (As lands, and cities with their glitt'ring (pires

We cry for mercy to the next amusement: To the poor shatter'd bark, by sudden storm

Yet when Death kindly tenders us relief,

We call him cruel ; years to moments thrink. Thrown oif to lea, and soon to perish there) Will toys amuse?-no: thrones will then be toys, And seems to creep, decrepit with his age ;

Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, And carth and skies seem duit upon the scale. Redeem we time!--its loss we dearly buy:

Behold him, when past by; what then is seen What pleads Lorenzo for his high-priz'd sports: And all mankind, in contradi&tion strong,

But his broad pinions (wifter than the winds He pleads time's numerous blanks; lie loudly Rucful, aghaft! cry out at his career. The straw.like trifles on life's common stream. From whom those blanks and trifles, but from thee?

§ 191. Wafie of Time. No blank, no trifle, nature made or meant. LEAVE to thy foes these errors, and these ills: Virtue, or purpos'd virtue, still be thine:

To nature just, their cause and cure explore. 'This cancels thy complaint at once; this leaves No niggard, naturc; men are prodigals.



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We throw away our suns, as made for sport; New-wing thy short, short day's too rapid fight?
We wafte, not use our time: we breathe, not live; Man flies from time, and time from man: tooloon
And barely breathing, man, to live ordaind, In sad divorce this double flight must end;
Wrings, and oppreiles with enormous weight. And then, where are we, where, Lorenzo ! then,
And why ? since time was given for use, not waste, Thy sports ? thy pomp :--I grant thee, in a state
Enjoy'd to fly, with tempett, tide, and stars, Not unambitious; in the ruffled shroud,
To keep his speed, nor ever wait for man : Thy Parian tomb's triumpirant arch beneath.
Time's use was doom'd a pleasure; waste, a pain, Has death his fopperies ? then well may life
That man might feel his error, if unseen; Put on her plume, and in her rainbow shine.
And, iecling, Hy to labour for his cure.
Liescires are comforts; luch by heav'n design’d;
Het huis none, must make them, or be wretched.

§ 192. False Delicacy.
Catıs are employments; and without employ "E well-array'd ! ye lilies of our land!
The coui is on a rack, the rack of reft ;

Ye lilies male! who neither toil, nor spin; To wils muit adverse; action all their joy.

Ye delicate! who nothing can support, Ilere, then, the ridule, mark'd above, unfolds ; Yourselves most insupportable! for whom Then tiine turns torineat, when man turns a fool. The winter role must blow, and filky loft We rave, we wrestle with great nature's plan ;

Favonius breathe full softer, or be chid; We :hwart the deity; and 'tis decreed,

And other worlds fend odours, sauce, and song, Wbo thwart his will, shall contradict their own. And robes, and notions, fram'd in foreign looms! Herce our unnatural quarrel with ourselves; Oye who deem one moment unamus'd, Our thoughts at enmity; our boom-broil. A mifery, say, dreamers of gay dreams! We puth time from us, and we wilh him back; How will you weather an eiernal night, Lie we think long, and short; death seek, and thun. Where such expedients fail ? where wit's a fool; Oh the dark days of vanity! while here, Mirth mourns ; dreams vanish; laughter sinks in Ho:v raiteless ! and how terrible, when gone ! Gone they ne'er go; when past, they haunt us Th: fpirit walks of ev'ry Day deceas'd, [still;

§ 193. Conscience. And liniles an angel; or a fury frowns. Nor death nor life delights us. If time part,

O TREAMEROUS conscience! while she seems And time poffeft, both pain us, what can please : on rose and myrtle, lull'd with fyren song; That which the deity to please ordain’d,

While she seeins, nodding o'er her charge, to drop Time us'd. The man who consecrates his hours

On headlong appetite the slacken’d rein,
By vigorous effort, and an honest aim,

The fly informer minutes every fault,
At once he draws the sting of life and death :
He walks with nature; and her paths are peace. Not the gross act alone employs her pen:

And her dread diary with horror fills:
Our error's cause, and cure, are feen: fee next she dawning purposes of heart explores,
Time's nature, origin, importance, speed;

Uunoted, notes cach moment mifapply'd ; And thy great gain from urging his career.

In leaves more durable than leaves of brass He looks on time, as nothing : Nothing else

Writes our whole history ; which death shall read Is truly man's: what wonders can he do? And vill : to ftand blank neuter he disdains.

In every pale delinquent's private car; Not on those terms was time (heaven's stranger!) Than this: and endless age ir groans resound.

And judgment publish: publith to more worlds On his important embassy to man. [fent And think'rt thou still thou canit be wife too soon! When the dread fire, on emanation bent And big with nature, arising in his might, Callid forth creation (for then time was born)

§ 194. Man's Supineness. By godhead streaming thro' a thousand worlds : \TIME fies, death urges, knells call, heaven Not on those terms, from the great days of heaven,

, From old eternity's mysterious orb,

Hell threatens; all exerts ; in effort, all; Was time cut off, and cast beneath the skies; More than creation labours ! -Labours more? The skics, which watch him in his new abode, And is there in crcation, what, amidst Measuring his motions by revolving spheres : This tumult universal, wing'd dispatch, Hours, days, and months, and years, his children, And ardent energy, lupinely yains : play

Man liecps; and man alone; and man, whosc fate, Like numerous wings, around him, as he flies : Fate irreversible, entire, extreme, Or, rather, as unequal plumes, they shape Endless, hair-hung, breeze-lbaken, o'er the gulph His ample pinions, swift as darted Hame, A moment trembles; drops ! man, the fole caule To gain his goal, to reach his antient rest, Of this surrounding storm! and yet hc Necps, And join anew eternity his fire;

As the storm rock'd to rest.– Throw years away? When worlds, that count his circles now, unhing'a Throw empires, and be blameless! muments seize, (Fate the loud hgnal founding) headlong ruth Heaven 's on their wing: a moment we may with To timeless night, and chaos, whence they role. When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid day stand Why pur the specdy? why with lovities Bid him drive back his car, recall, retake [still,

Fate's lg 1970



Fate's hasty prey; implore him, re-import A moment, and the world 's blown up to thee;
The period pait; re-give the given hour! The fun is darkness, and the stars are dust.
Lorenzo-o for yetierday to come!
Such is the language of the man awake ;

Vanity of Human Enjoyments, taug be And is his ardour vain? Lorenzo! no:

by Experience. To-day is yesterday return'd; return'd Full power'd to cancel, expiate, raise, adorn,

'T'S greatly wise to talk with our past hours;

And ask them, what report they bore to And reinstate us on the rock of peace.


[news. Let it not share its predecessor's fate;

And how they might have borne more welcome Nor, like its elder sisters, die a fool.

Their answers form what men experience call : Shall we be poorer for the plenty pour'd ? If Wisdom's friend, her bett: if not, worst foe. More wretched for the clemencies of heaven?

O reconcile thein ! kind Experienee cries,

“There's nothing here, but what as nothing weighs; § 195. The Depravity of Man.

The more our joy, the more we know it vain; WHERE hall I find him ? angels, tell me And by fuccefs are tutor'd to despair." !

Nor is it only thus, but must be lo: You know him; he is near you: point him out; Who knows not this, tho' grey, is still a child. Shall I see glories beaming from his brow? Loose then from earth the gralp of fond desire, Or trace his footsteps by the rising flow'rs? Weigh anchor, and some happier clime explore. Your golden wings, now hov'ring o'er him shed Protection ; now, are waving in applause

§ 198. Death unavoidable. To that blest son of foresight! lord of fate !

SINCE by life's palling breath, blown up from That awful independent on To-morrow!

earth, Whose work is done; who triumphs in the past; Light as the summer's dust, we take in air Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile; A moment's giddy flight; and fall again ; Nor, like the Parthian, wound him as they ny. Join the dull mass, increase the trodden foil, If not by guilt, they wound us by their fight, And sleep till earth herself shall be no more; If folly bounds our prospect by the grave; Since then (as emmets their small world o'erAll feeling of futurity benumb’d;

thrown) All relish of realities expir'd;

We, fore amaz’, from out earth's ruins crawl, Renounc'd all correspondence with the skies ; And rise to fate extreme, of foul or fair, Embruted every faculty divine;

As man's own choice, controuler of the skies! Heart-buried in the rubbish of the world :

As man's despotic will, this hour, decrees; The world, that gulph of fouls, immortal fouls, Should not cach warning give a strong alarm? Souls elevate, angelic, wing'd with fire Warning, far lets than that of boson torn To reach the distant skies, and triumph there From bolom, bleeding o'er the facred dead ? On thrones, which thall not mourn their masters Should not cach dial itrike us as we pass, chang'd,

Portentous, as the written wall, which struck, Tho' we from earth; ethereal, they that fell. O’er midnight bowls, the proud Aisyrian pale? Such veneration due, O man, to man !

Like that, the dial speaks; and points to thee;

“: O man, thy kingdom is departing from thee; § 196. Instability of Life.

And, while it lasts, is emptier than my thade.' WHO venerate themselves, the world defpife. Know; like the Mcdian, fate is in thy walis:

For what, gay friend ! is this escutcheon'd Man's make inclofcs the iure feeds of death; world,

Life feeds the murderer: ingrate ! he thrives Which hangs out, Death is one eternal night?

On her own meal; and then his nurse devours. A vight, that glooms us in the noon-tide ray, And wraps our theught, at banquets, in the throud.

$ 199. Life compared to the Sun-dial. Life's little stage is a small emninence,

THAT folar shadow, as it measures life, Inch high the grave above ; that home of man, It life resembles too : life speeds away Where dwells the multitude : we gaze around, From point to point, tho seeming to stand stilt: We read their monuments; we ligh; and while The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth: We figh, we fink; and are what we deplor'd; Too subtle is the movement to be seen, Lamenting, or lamented, all our loe!

Yet foon man's hour is up, and we are gone. Is death at distance? no: he has been on thee; Warnings point out our danger, gnomons, time: And given sure earnest of his final blow. (now: As these are useless when the sun is fets Those hours, which lately smild, where are they So those, but when more glorious reason shines. Pallid to thought, and 'ghaltly! drown'd, all Reason should judge in all ; in reason's eye, drown'd

That fedentary lhadow travels bard : In that great decp, which nothing disembogues; But all mankind mistake their time of day; And, dying, they lequcath'd thee small renown. Even age itself : fresh hopes are hourly foun The rest are on the wing: how feet their fight! furrow'd brows. So gentle life's descent, Already has the fatal train took fije;

We thut our eyes, and think it is a plain:


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We take fair days in winter, for the spring : His God sustains him in his final hour !
• We turn our blessings into bane ; since oft His final hour brings glory to his God !
Man muít compute that age he cannot feel : Man's glory hcaven vouchsafes to call its own.
He scarce believes he's older for his years. Amazement strikes I devotion bursts to fame!
Thus, at life's latest eve, we keep in store Christians adore! and infidels believe,
One disappointment fure, to crown the rest ; At that black hour, which general horror sheds
The disappointment of a promis'd hour. On the low level of th' inglorious throng,

Sweet peace, and heavenly hope, and humble joy, $ 200. Dearb of tbe gool Man.

Divinely beam on his exalted soul;

Destruction gild, and crown him for the skies. So fung Philander, O! the cordial warmth, Life, take thy chance = but oh for such an end !

And elevating fpirit, of a friend,
For twenty fummers ripening by my side ;

Ś 201.
All feculence of fallehood long thrown down;

NIGHT W. Picture of Narcissa, Descripo All social virtucs rising in his soul;

tion of ber Funeral, and a Reflection upon Man. As crystal clear; and imiling, as they rise! SWEET harmonift! and beautiful as fiveet ! On earth how loft! Philander is no more.

And young as beautiful! and soft as young! How bleliings brighten as they take their flight! And gay as soft! and innocent as gay! His flight Philander took; it were profane And happy (if aught happy here) as good ! To quench a glory lighted at the skies, For fortune fond had built her nest on high. And cast in shadows his illustrious close. Like birds quite exquisite of note and plume, Strange! the theme most affecting, must sublime, Transfix'd by fatc (avho loves a lofty mark) Momentous moft to man, should ileep unsung;

How from the summit of the grove the fell, Man's highest triumph! man's profoundeft fali! And left it unharmonious ! all its charms The death-bed of the just! is yet undrawn Extinguish'd in the wonders of her long! By mortal hand; it merits a divine :

Her fong still vibrates in my ravish'd car, Angels should paint it, angels ever there ; Still melting there, and with voluptuous pain There, on a post of honour, and of joy. (O to forget her!) thrilling thro' my heart !

The chamber where the good man meets his Song, Beauty, Youth, Love, Virtue, Joy! this Is privileg'd beyond the common walk [fate Of bright ideas, Aow'rs of paradise, [group Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven. As yet unforfeit ! in one blaze we bind, Fly, ye profane! or else draw near with awe, Kneel, and present it to the skies; as all For, here, refiftlefs demonftration dwelis; We guess of heaven, and these were all her own. Here tir'd diffimulation drops her inak, And she was mine; and I was-was ! -most Here real and apparent are the fame.

Gay title of the deepest misery! [blest You see the man; you see his hold on heaven : As bodies grow more pond'rous robb’d of life, Heaven waits not the last moment, owns its friends Good lost weighs more in grief than gain'd in joy. On this fide death ; and points them out to men; Like blossom'd trees o'erturn d by vernal storm, A lecture, silent, but of sovereign pow'r,

Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay; To vice, confusion; and to virtue, peace !

And if in death still lovely, lovelier there; Whatever farce the boaftful hero plays, Far lovelier! picy swells the tide of love. Virtue alone has majetty in death;

and will not the severe excuse a figh? And greater still, the more the tyrant frowns. Scorn the proud man that is alham'd to weep; Philander ! he severely frown'd on thee, Our tears indulg'd indeed deserve our shame. * No warning given! unceremonious fate! Ye that e'er loft an angel ! pity me. “ A sudden ruih from life's meridian joys ! Soon as the luftre languith'd in her eye, "A restless bed of pain! a plunge opaque

Dawning a dimmer day on human fight; Beyond conjecture! fecble nature's dread! And on her cheek, the residence of spring, * Strong reason's shudder at the dark unknown ! Pale omen sat, and scatter'd fears around " A fun extinguith'd! a just opening grave! On all that saw (and who could cease to gaze And oh! the latt, laft: what: (can words ex- That once had seen :) --with haste, parental haste, “press

[friend!" I few, I snatch'd her from the rigid north, * Thought reach ?) the last, last-filence of a Her native bed, on which black Boreas blew,

Thro' nature's wreck, thro' vanquish'd agonies, And bore her nearer to the fun; the sun
Like the stars struggling thro'this midnight gloom, (As if the sun could envy) check'd his beam,
What gleams of joy? what more than human Denied his wonted succour; nor with more
peace !

Regret beheld her drooping, than the bells
Where the frail mortal ? the poor abject worin? Of lilies; faireft lilies, not so fair!
No, not in death, the mortal to be found. Qucen lilies ! and ye painted populace
His comforters he comforts ; great in ruin,

Who dwell in fields, and lead ambrosial lives; With unreluctant grandeur, gives, not yields In morn and ev'ning dew your beauties bathe, His foul sublime; and closes with his fate. And drink the fun; which gives your cheeks to How our hearts burnt within us at the scene! And out-blush (mine excepted) every fair! [glow; Whence this brave bound o'er limits fixt to man? You gladlier grew, ambitious of her hand,



Which often cropp'd your odours, incense meet The dead how sacred ! Sacred is the dust
To thought so pure! Ye lovely fugitives! Of this heaven-labour'd form, erect, divine;
Coeval race with man! for man you smile ; This heaven-afsuin'd majestic robe of earth
Why not smile at him too? You share indecd He deign'd to wear, who hung the vast expanse
His sudden pass, but not his constant pain. With azure bright, and cloth'd the sun in gold.

So man is made, nought minifters delight, When ev'ry pailion Neeps that can offend;
But what his glowing pallions can engage; When strikes us ev'ry motive that can melt ;
And glowing pallions, bent on aught below, When man can wreak his rancour uncontrould,
Must toon or late with anguish turn the icale ; That strongest curb on insult and ill-will;
And anguilh, after rapture, how fevere! Then (plecn to duit? the dust of innocence ?
Rapture ? Bold man who tempts the wrath divine, An angel's duft :- This Lucifer transcends :
By plucking fruit denied to mortal taste, When he contended for the patriarch's bones,
While here preliming on the rights of Heaven. 'Twas not the strife of malice, but of pride;
For transport dost thou call on ev'ry hour, The strifc of pontiff pride, not pontiff gall.
Lorenzo ? At thy friend's expence be wise; Far less than this is shocking, in a race
Lean not on earth, 'twill pierce thee to the hcart; Most wretched but from streams of mutual love;
A broken reed at best, but oft a spear;

And uncreated but for love divine;
On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires. And, but for love divine, this moment loft,
Turn, hopeless thoughts! turn from her :- By fate resorb'd, and lunk in endless night.
thought repella

Man hard of heart to man! of horrid things
Resenting rallies, and wakes ev'ry woe. Most horrid ! 'Mid (tupendous, highly strange!
Snatch'd ere thy prime, and in thy bridal hour! | Yet oft his courtches are smoother wrongs;
And when kind fortune, with thy lover, smil'd! Pride brandishes the favours He confers,
And when high flavour'd thy freíh op’ning joys' And contumelious liis humanity:
And when blind man pronounc'd thy blits com- What then his vengeance? Hcar it not, ye stars!

And thou, pale moon ! turn paler at the found ! And on a foreign shore, whicre strangers wept ! M21 is to inan the forest, furest ill. Strangers to thee; and, more surprising still, A previous blast foretels the rising storm ; Strangers to kindness rept: their eyes let fall O'erwhelming turrets threaten ere they fall; Inhuman tears; strange tears ! thattrickled down Volcanos bellow ere they dilembcgue; From marble hearts ! obdurate tenderneis! Earıh trembles ere her yawning jaws devour; A tenderness that call'd them morc fovere; And finoke betrays the widc-consuming hre: In spite of nature's soft persuasion, steeld; Ruin from man is most conceal'd when near, While nature melted, fuperftition ravid; And sends the dreadful ridings in the blow. That mourn’d the dead, and this denied a grave. Is this the fight of fancy? Would it were !

Their fighs incens il, lighs forcign to the will! Heaven's Sovereign faves all beings but himself Their will the tiger fuck'd, outrag d the storm. That hideous fight, a naked human heart! Tor, oh! the curs d ungodliness of zeal! While finful fleth relenied, spirit nurs'd

§ 202.

Dealb not to be dreaded. In blind infallibility's embrace, The fainted spirit petrified the breast :

HOW deep implanted in the breast of man

The dread of death! I fing its sov'reign cure. Denied the charity of dust, to spread

Why start at death? where is he? death arriv'd, O'er dust ! a charity their dogs enjoy. What could I do? what fuccour: what resource : Ere hope, fenfation fails ; black-boding man

Is part : not come, or gone, he 's never here. With pious facrilege a grave I ftole,

Receives, not fuffers, death's tremendous blow. With impious piety that grave I wrong'd;

The knell, the throud, the mattock, and the grave; Short in my duty, coward in my grief ! More like her murderer than friend, I crept

The deep damp vault, the darkness, and the worm;

These are the bugbears of a winter's eve, With soft suspended step, and mufiled deep

The terrors of the living, not the dead. In midnight darkness whisper'd my last figh. I whisper'd what should echo thro' their scalms; Man makes a death which nature never made;

Imagination's fool, and error's wretch, Nor writ her name whole tomb thould pierce the Then on the point of his own fancy falls; skies.

And feels a thousand deaths, in fearing one. Presumptuous fear! How durst I dread her foes, While nature's loudest dietates I obey'd? Pardon ncceflity, bleft shade! Of grief

§ 203. Deatb difirable to the Aged. And indignation rival bursts I pour’d;

BUT was death frightful, what has age to fear? Half execration mingled with my pray’r;

If prudent, age 1hould meet the friendly foe, Kindled at man, while I his God adur'd; And shelter in his hospitable gloom. Sore grudg'd the savage land her facred duft; I scarce can meet a monument but holds Stamp'd the curs'd soil; and with humanity My younger: every date cries-" Come away!' (Denied Narcilla) with'd them all a grave. And what recalls me ? look the world around,

Glows my relentine:t into guilt? What guilt And tell me wiat: the witeit cannot teil. Can equal violations of the dead?

Should any born of woman give his thou, ht




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