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Wherely with the years beyond the Flood?
thegal that demands difpatch;
Ach is to be done! my hopes and fears
tup slam'd, and o'er life's narrow verge
down-on what? a fathomless abyss;
eternity! how furely mine!
eternity belong to me,
Later on the bounties of an hour?

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How how rich! how abject! how

Kate how wonderful is Man! sonder He who made him fuch! rudin our make such strange extremes! ent natures marvellously mixt, euite of diftant worlds! dink in being's endless chain! bing to the Deity!

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real tullied, and abiorb'd!

dithonour'd, ftill divine! of greatnefs abfolute!

a frail child of duft! otal infect infinite!

Ad I tremble at myself;

am lot! at home a ftranger,
ters up and down, furpris'd aghaft,
ang at her own: how reafon reels!
*e to man is man!

Citrefs'd, what joy, what dread!
ported and alarm'd!

ve my life, or what deftroy?
a't inatch me from the grave;
can't confine me there.

176. Dreams.

; all things rife in proof: mbs Sleep's foft dominion

yal phantastic measures trod *s, or mourn d along the gloom ob; or down the craggy heep --7, iwam with pain the mantled

for danc'd on hollow winds, e, wild natives of the brain? tho'devious, fpeaks her nature thin the trodden clod; wring, unconfin`d, * her grofs companion's fall: proclaims my foul immortal: yet proclaims eternal day: *** heaven hufbands all events, ats, nor sport vain dreams in vain.

Ay of Lamentation over the Dead.

lofs deplore, that are not loft? *wretched thought their tombs

́s are angel's there?

dup in duit, ethereal fire? Lary greatly live a life on earth

Unkindled, unconceiv'd; and from an eye
Of tenderness, let heavenly pity fall
On me, more justly number'd with the dead:
This is the defert, this the folitude:
How populous! how vital, is the grave?
This is creation's melancholy vault,
The vale funereal, the fad cyprefs gloom;
The land of apparitions, empty fhades;
All, all on earth is fhadow, all beyond
Is fubftance; the reverse is folly's creed;
How folid all, where change fhall be no more!

$178. Life and Eternity.
THIS is the bud of being, the dim dawn;
Life's theatre as yet is fhut, and death,
Strong death alone can heave the massy bar,
This grofs impediment of clay remove,
And make us embryos of existence free.
From real life, but little more remote
Is he, not yet a candidate for light,
The future embryo, flumbering in his fire.
Embryos we muit be, till we burft the shell.
Yon ambient azure thell, and spring to life,
The life of gods-O transport! and of man.

Yet man, fool man! hereburiesall histhoughts;
Inters celeftial hopes without one figh:
Prifoner of earth, and pent beneath the moon,
Here pinions all his withes: wing'd by heaven
To fly at infinite, and reach it there,
Where feraphs gather immortality,
On life's fair tree, faft by the throne of God.
What golden joys ambrofial cluft'ring glow
In his full beam, and ripen for the Juit,
Where momentary ages are no more!
Where time, and pain, and chance, and death
expire!

And is it in the flight of threefcore years,
To push eternity from human thought,
And fmother fouls immortal in the duit!
A foul immortal, fpending all her fires,
Wafting her ftrength in ftrenuous idleness,
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd,
Ataught this fcene can threaten or indulge,
Refembles ocean into tempeft wrought,
To waft a feather or to drown a fly,

Where failsthis cenfure? Ito'erwhelmsmyself.
How was my heart encrufted by the world!
O how felf-fetter'd was my groveling foul !
How, like a worm, was I wrapt round and round
In filken thought, which reptile Fancy fpun,
Till darken'd Reafon lay quite clouded o'er
With foft conceit of endle's comfort here,
Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies!

Our waking dreams are fatal: how I dreamt
Of things impoffible! (could fleep do more?)
Of joys perpetual in perpetual change!
Of table pleasures on the toffing wave!
Eternal funfhine in the ftorms of life!
How richly were my noon-tide trances hung
With gorgeous tapestries of pictur'd joys!
Joy behind joy, in endlefs perfpective!
Till at Death's toll, whofe restlefs iron tongue
Calls daily for his millions at a meal,
Starting, I woke, and found myself undone!

Where

Where now my phrenfy's pompous furniture!
The cobweb'd cottage with its ragged wall
Of mould'ring mud, is royalty to me!
The fpider's thread is cable to man's tie
On earthly blifs; it breaks at every breeze.

$179. Time and Death.

O YE bleft scenes of permanent delight!
Full, above measure! lafting beyond bound!
Could you, fo rich in rapture, fear an end,
That ghaftly thought would drink up all your
joy,

And quite unparadife the realms of light.
Safe are you lodg'd above thefe rolling spheres,
The baleful influence of whofe giddy dance
Sheds fad viciffitudes on all beneath.
Here teems with revolutions every hour;
And rarely for the better; or the best,
More mortal than the common births of fate:
Each moment has its fickle, emulous

Of Time's enormous fcythe, whofe ample fweep
Strikes empires from the root; each moment
plies

His little weapon in the narrower sphere
Of fweet domeftic comfort, and cuts down
The fairest bloom of fublunary blifs.

In this fhape, or in that, has fate entail'd
The mother's throes on all of woman bor
Not more the children, than fure heirs of

$180. Oppresion, Want, and Diff
WAR, famine, peft, volcano, storm, and
Inteftine broils, oppreflion with her hear
Wrapt up in triple brafs, befiege mankin
God's image, difinherited of day,

Here plung'd in mines, forgets a fun was
Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life
There beings, deathlefs as their haughty
And plough the winter's wave, and reap de
In battle lopt away, with half their limbs
Some, for hard mafters, broken under arm
Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valour
If fo the tyrant, or his minion doom;
Want and incurable Difeafe (fell pair!)
On hopeless multitudes remorfelefs feize
At once, and make a refuge of the grave
What numbers groan for fad admiffion th
How groaning hofpitals eject their dead!
What numbers, once in Fortune's lap hig
Solicit the cold hand of charity!
To fhock us more, folicit it in vain!
Not Prudence can defend, or Virtue fay

Blifs! fublunary blifs! proud words, and vain! Difeafe invades the chafteft temperance; Implicit treafon to divine decree!

A bold invasion of the rights of heaven!
I clafp'd the phantoms, and I found them air,
O had I weigh'd it ere my fond embrace,
What darts of agony had mifs'd my heart!
Death! great proprietor of all! 'Tis thine
To tread out empire, and to quench the stars:
The fun himfelf by thy permiffion thines;
And, one day, thou fhalt pluck him from his
fphere.

Amid fuch mighty plunder, why exhaust
Thy partial quiver on a mark fo mean?
Why thy peculiar rancour wreck'd on me?
Infatiate archer! could not one suffice?
Thy fhaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was
flain;

[horn.

And punishment the guiltlefs; and alarm
Thro' thicket fhades purfues the fond off
Man's caution often into danger turns,
And, his guard falling, cruhes him to de
Not Happiness itself makes good her nam
Our very wishes gives us not our wish;
How diftant oft the thing we dote on mo
From that for which we dote, felicity!

The fmootheft courfe of nature has its
And trueft friends, thro' error, wound ou
Without misfortune, what calamities!
And what hoftilities without a foe!
Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth
But endless is the lift of human ills,
And fighs might fooner fail, than cause to

And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill a her§ 181. Reflections on viewing a Map of the
O Cynthia why fo pale? dost thou lament
Thy wretched neighbour? grieve, to fee thy
wheel

Of ceafelefs change outwhirl'd in human life?
In ev'ry varied posture, place, and hour,
How widow'd every thought of every joy!
Thought, bufy thought! too bufy for my peace,
Thro' the dark poftern of time long elaps'd
Led foftly, by the ftillness of the night,
Strays, wretched rover! o'er the pleating paft,
In queft of wretchedness, perversely trays;
And finds all defert now; and meets the ghofts
Of my departed joys, a numerous train !
I rue the riches of my former fate;
Sweet comfort's blafted clusters make me figh:
I tremble at the bleffings once fo dear;
And ev'ry pleature pains me to the heart.
Yet why complain? or why complain for one?
I mourn for millions: "Tis the common lot;

A PART how fmall of the terraqueous gle
Is tenanted by man! the reft a waite,
Rocks, deferts, frozen feas, and burning f
Wild haunts of monfters, poifons, ftings,

death:

Such is earth's melancholy map! but, far
More fad; this earth is a true map of man
So bounded are its haughty lord's delight
To woe's wide empire; where deep trouble
Loud forrows howl; envenom'd paffions
Ravenous calamities our vitals feize,

And threat'ning fate wide opens to devou

182. Sympathy.

WHAT then am I, who forrow for myfelf
In age, in infancy, from other's aid
Is all our hope; to teach us to be kind.
That, Nature's first, lait leflon to mankind

e reart deferves the pain it feels; eguetas forrow, while it finks, exalts, ecious virtue mitigates the pang.

, more than Prudence, bids me give thought a second channel, who divide, waken too, the torrent of their grief. Tar thea, O world! thy much indebted tear: aada tight is human happiness [hour! whole thought can pierce beyond an whate'er thou art, whofe heart exults! Wahou I fhould congratulate thy fate? I wouldft; thy pride demands it from Lede pardon,what thy nature needs, [me, rary cenfure of a friend:

!

We penetrate, we prophefy in vain:
Time is dealt out by particles: and each,
Ere mingled with the ftreaming fands of life,
By fate's inviolable oath is fworn
Deep filence, "Where eternity begins."

185. Prefumption of depending on To-morrow.
By Nature's law, what may be, may be now;
There's no prerogative in human hours:
In human hearts what bolder thought can rife,
Than man's prefumption on to-morrow's dawn?
Where is to-morrow? In another world.
For numbers this is certain; the reverse
[bleft; Is fure to none; and yet on this perhaps,
This peradventure, infamous for lies,
As on a rock of adamant we build
Our mountain hopes; fpin out eternal schemes,
And, big with life's futurities, expire.

happy wretch! by blindness art thou dtage dandled to perpetual smiles: , der at thy peril art thou pleas'd; are is the promife of thy pain. e, like a creditor fevere, a in demand for her delay; makes a frourge of paft prosperity, thee more, and double thy distress.

↑ Ap. The Inflability and Infufficiency of Human Joys.

Fortune makes her court to thee, te dances, while the fyren fings.

mp, but to fecure thy joys: at fear is facred to the ftorm:

guard against the fmiles of fate. endous in its frown! moft fure: A torours formidable too;

here are trials, not rewards: Ay, not discharge from care;

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mus, full as much as woes;
londuct give a jealous eye;
malt, and chaftife her joys,
we kill them; nay invert,
ple mitcry, their charms:
like foes in civil war,
alhips to resentment four'd,
"anon'd rife against our peace.
earth ca'is happinefs; beware

that never can expire:
raless than an immortal bafe,
Pry condemns his joys to death.
with thee, Philander! thy laft figh
cm; the difenchanted earth

$186. Sudden Death.
NOT ev'n Philander had bespoke his shroud;
Nor had he caufe, a warning was deny'd.
How many fall as fudden, not as fafe!
As fudden, tho' for years admonish'd home.
Of human ills the laft extreme beware,
Beware, Lorenzo! a flow-fudden death.
How dreadful that deliberate furprise!
Be wife to-day, 'tis madnefs to defer;
Next day the fatal precedent will plead!
Thus on, till wifdom is pufh'd out of life;
Procrastination is the thief of time,
Year after year it fteals, till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vaft concerns of an eternal fcene!
If not fo frequent, would not this be strange?
That 'tis fo frequent, this is ftranger still.

§ 187. Man's Proneness to pofipone Improvement. Or man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, “that all men are about to live.” For ever on the brink of being born: All pay themfelves the compliment to think They, one day, fhall not drivel; and their pride On this reverfion takes up ready praise; At leaft, their own, their future felves applauds; How excellent that life they ne'er will lead ! Time lodg'd in their own hands is folly's vails; That lodg'd in fate's, to wifdom they confign. e; where, her glittering towers? All promife is poor dilatory man, untains, where? all darken'd And that thro' every stage: when young, in : a dreary vale of tears! [down In full content, we fometimes nobly reft, Jan's dead! thou poor pale piece Unanxious for ourselves; and only with, er, in darkness! what a change As duteous fons, our fathers were more wife: athy darling hope fo near, [in At thirty man fufpects himself a fool; prize!) death's fubtle feed with- Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; miner!) working in the dark, At fifty chides his infamous delay, well-concerted fcheme, and beck-Pufhes his prudent purpose to refolve; not on that role fo red, [on'd In all the magnanimity of thought Tamrielly one moment's prey!

184. Man fort-fighted.
moment terminates our fight;
as thofe on doomsday, drown

[deed,

Refolves; and re-refolves: then dies the fame.

$188. Man infenfible of his own Mortality. AND why! becaute he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but them/elves; Themselves,

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Themfelves, when fome alarming fhock of fate
Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the fudden
dread ;.

But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air,
Soonclofe;where pafs'd the thaft,no trace isfound:
As, from the wing no fcar the fky retains;
The parted wave no furrow from the keel;
So dies in human hearts the thought of death:
Ev'n with the tender tear which nature fheds
O'er thofe we love, we drop it in their grave.
Can I forget Philander ? that were ftrange;
O my full heart! but thould I give it vent,
The longest night, tho' longer far, would fail,
And the lark liften to my midnight long.

$189. NIGHT II. Avarice of Time recommended.
HE mourns the dead, who lives as they defire.
Where is that thrift, that avarice of Time,
(Bleft av'rice!) which the thought of death
infpires.

O time! than gold more facred; more a load
Than lead, to tools; and fools reputed wife.
What moment granted man without account?
Whatyears are fquander'd,wifdom'sdebtunpaid?
Hafte, hafte, he lies in wait, he 's at the door,
Infidious death, fhould his ftrong hand arreft,
No compofition fets the prifoner free.
Eternity's inexorable chain

Faft binds; and vengeance claims the full arrear.
How late I fhudder'd on the brink! how late)
Life call'd for her last refuge in defpair!
For what calls thy difeafe? for moral aid.
Thon think'st it folly to be wife too soon.
Youth is not rich in time; it may be, poor:
Part with it as with money, fparing; pay
No moment, but in purchafe of its worth :
And what its worth, aik death-beds, they can
Part with it as with life, reluctant; big [tell.
With holy hope of nobler time to come.

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In act no trifle, and no blank in time.
This greatens, fills, immortalizes all!
This, the bleft art of turning all to gold
This, the good heart's prerogative to rai
A royal tribute, from the pooreft hours.
Immenfe revenue! every moment pays.
If nothing more than purpose in thy pow
Thy purpofe firm, is equal to the deed:
Who does the best his circumftance allow
Does well, acts nobly; angels could nor
Our outward act, indeed, admits reftrain
'Tis not in things o'er thought to doming
Guard well thy thoughts; our thoug.
heard in heaven.

On all-important time, thro' every age
Tho' much, and warm, the wife have urg
Is yet unborn who duly weighs an hour.
"I've lost a day”-the prince who nobly
Had been an emperor without his crown
He fpoke, as if deputed by mankind.
So fhould all fpeak: fo reafon fpeaks in a
From the foft whispers of that god in ma
Why fly to folly, why to phrenly fly,
For refcue from the bleffing we poffefs?
Time, the fupreme !-Time is eternity;
Pregnant with all eternity can give,
Pregnant with all that makes arch-angels
Who murders time, he crushes in the birt
A pow'r ethereal, only not ador'd.

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190. Inconfiflency of Man.
AH! how unjuft to nature, and himfelf,
Is thoughtlefs, thanklefs, inconfiftent m
Like children babbling nonfente in their
We cenfure nature for a span too short;
That fpan too fhort, we tax as tedious too
Torture invention, all expedients tire,
To lafh the ling'ring moments into fpeed
And whirl us (happy riddance) from outf
| Art, brainlefs at! our furious chariotee
Death, moft our dread, death thus mort,
Drives headlong towards the precipice of
O what a riddle of abfurd ty!
Leifure is pain; take off car chariot whe
How heavily we drag the load of life!
Bleft leiture is our cure; l.ke that of Cai
It makes us wander; wander earth aroun
To fly that tyrant, Thought. As Atlas g
The world beneath, we groan beneath an
We cry for mercy to the next amusement.
Yet when Death kindly tenders us relief,
We call him cruel; years to moments fhri
Time, in advance, behind him hides his w
And feems to creep, decrepit with his age
Behold him, when paft by; what then is i

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Is this our duty, wifdom, glory, gain? And sport we like the natives of the bough, When vernal funs infpire ? Amufement reigns Man's great demand: to trifle is to live: And is it then a trifle, too, to die?Who wants amufement in the flame of battle? Is it not treafon to the foul immortal, Her foes in arms, eternity the prize? Will toys amufe, when med cines cannot cure? When fpirits ebb, when life's inchanting fcenes Their luftre lofe, and leffen in our fight? (As lands, and cities with their glitt ring fpires To the poor fhatter'd bark, by fudden form Thrown off to fea, and foon to perish there) Will toys amufe?-no: thrones will then be toys, And earth and fkies feem duft upon the fcale. Redeem we time ?-its lofs we dearly buy: What pleads Lorenzo for his high-priz'd ports? But his broad pinions fwifter than the win He pleads time's numerous blanks; he loudly | And all mankind, in contradiction ftrong Rueful, aghalt ! cry out at his career.

plends

The ftraw-like trifles on life's common ftream.
From whom thofe blanks and trifles, but from!
No blank, no trifle, nature made or meant: [thee?
Virtue, or purpos'd virtue, ftill be thine:
This cancels thy complaint at once; this leaves

191. Wale of Time. LEAVE to thy foes thefe errors, and thefe i To nature juft, their caufe and cure explo No niggard, nature; men are prodigals.

We the many our funs, as made for fport;
we wat notule our time: we breathe, not live;
hure breathing, man, to live ordain'd,
topprefles with enormous weight.
Ence time was given for ufe,not waite,
to ty, with tempeft, tide, and stars,
srp his speed, nor ever wait for man:
esk was doom'd a pleasure; waste, a pain,
29 might feel his error, if unfeen;
ing, dy to labour for his cure. [fign'd;
es are comforts; fuch by heav'n de-
none, mult make them,or be wretch-
ployments; and without employ [ed.
is on a rack. the rack of reft;
not adverse; action all their joy.
He then, the riddle, mark'd above, unfolds;
taras torment, when man turns a fool.
e we wrestle with great nature's plan;
at the Deity; and 'tis decreed,
awart his will, fhall contradict their own.
For unnatural quarrel with ourselves;

New-wing thy fhort,fhort day's too rapid flight?
Man flies from time, and time from man: too
In fad divorce this double flight must end; [foon
And then, where are we? where, Lorenzo then,
Thy fports? thy pomp?-I grant thee, in a state
Not unambitious; in the ruffled throud,
Thy Parian tomb's triumphant arch beneath,
Has death his fopperies? then well may life
Put on her plume, and in her rainbow thine.

ghs at enmity; our bofom-broil. ime from us; and we wish him back; Pak long, and fhort; death feek, and days of vanity! while here, [thun. and how terrible, when gone! e'er go; when paft, they haunt us ks of ev'ry Day deceas'd, [fill;| angel; or a fury frowns. Verlife delights us. If time past, ,both pain us, what can please? the Deity to please ordain'd, d. The man who confecrates his hours fort, and an honest aim,

s the fting of life and death: nature; and her paths are peace. fufe, and cure, are feen: fee next Tigin, importance, speed ̧ Again from urging his career. He, as nothing: Nothing elfe what wonders can he do? and blank neuter he difdains. * terms was time (heaven's ftranembaffy to man. [ger!) fent

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érd fire, on emanation bent

nature, arifing in his might, creation (for then time was born)

192. Falfe Delicacy.

ye lilies male! who neither toil, nor fpin;
YE well-array'd! ye lilies of our land!
Ye delicate! who nothing can fupport,
Yourselves moft infuppertable! for whom
The winter rofe muft blow, and filky foft
Favonius breathe still fofter, or be chid;
And other worlds fend odours, fauce, and fong,
And robes, and notions, fram'd in foreign
O ye who deem one moment unamus'd,[looms!
A mifery, fay, dreamers of gay dreams!
How will you weather an eternal night,
Where fuch expedients fail? where wit's a fool;
Mirth mourns; dreams vanish; laughter finks

in tears..

§ 193. Confcience.

O TREACHEROUS confcience! while the feems
to fleep,

On rofe and myrtle, lull'd with fyren fong;
While the feems, nodding o'er her charge, to
On headlong appetite the flacken'd rein, [drop
The fly informer minutes every fault,
And her dread diary with horror fills:
Not the grofs act alone employs her pen:
She dawning purposes of heart explores,
Unnoted, notes each moment milapply'd;
In leaves more durable than leaves of brafs
Writes our whole hiftory; which death fhall
In every pale delinquent's private ear; [read
And judgment publith: publish to more worlds
Than this: and endlefs age in groans refound.
And think 'ftthou ftill thou canft bewife toofoon?

$194. Man's Supinerefs.

taming thro' a thoufand worlds: TIME flies, death urges, knells call, heaven

e terms, from the great days of

invites,

City's myfterious orb, [heaven, Hell threatens; all exerts; in effort, all;

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off; and caft beneath the skies; win watch him in his new abode, motions by revolving fpheres: and months, and years, his chil

More than creation labours !-Labours more? And is there in creation, what, amidst This tumult univerfal, wing`d dispatch, And ardent energy, fupinely yawns!-- [fate, Man fleeps; and man alone; and man, whofe Fate irreversible, entire, extreme, (gulph Endlefs, hair-hung, breeze-fhaken, o'er the A moment trembles; drops! man, the fole caufe Of this furrounding ftorm! and yet he fleeps, As the ftorm rock'd to reit.-Throw years away? that count his circles row, un-Throw empires, and beblamelefs! moments leize, fignal founding) headlong ruth Heaven's on their wing: a moment we may wish ght, and chaos, whence they rofe. When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid day stand peedy? why with levities Bid him drive back his car, recall, retake [ftlil,

wings, around him, as he flies:
anequal plumes, they shape
ons, fwift as darted flame,
d, to reach his antient reft,
eternity his fire;

[hing'd

Fate's

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