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SACRED AND MORAL.
Procrastination is the thief of time;
And to the mercies of a moment Icaves And ev'ry pleasure pains me to the heart. The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
Yet why complain? or why complain for one ? If not to frequent, would not this be strange!
themselves the compliment to think Not more the children, than sure heirs of pain. They one day ihall not drivel; and their pride
On this reversion takes up ready praise , $ 179. Opprefion, Want, and Disease. Young. At least, their own; their future lelves applaudsi
How excellent that life they ne'er will lead! WAR, Famine, Pest, Volcano, Storm, and Fire: Time lody'd in their own hands is Folly's vails ;
Inteftine broils, Oppretlion, with her heart That lody'd in fate's, to witdom they confign; Wrapt up in triple brass, besiege mankind.
The thing they can't but purpose they postpone: God's image, disinherited of day,
'Tis not in foliy not to fcorn a fool; Here, plung d in mines, forgets a fun was made : And scarce in human wildoin to do more. There, beings, deathless as their haughty lord,
All promise is poor dilatory man. Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life,
And that thro' ev'ry stage: when young, indeed, And plow the winter's wavc, and r'cap despair.
In full content we sometimes nobly reit, Some, for hard masters, broken under arms,
Unanxious for ourselves; and only with, In battle lopt away, with half their limbs,
As duteous fons, our fathers were more wise. Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valour fav'd: At thirty, man lulpeets himself a fool; If to the tyrant, or his minion, Joom,
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; Want, and incurable disease (full pair!)
At fifty chides his infainous delay, On hopeless multitudes remorseleis teize
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve; At once, and make a refuge of the grave. In all the magnanimity of thought How groaning hospitals eject their dead !
Refolves, and re-refolves; then dies the same. What numbers groan for fad admission there!
And why? Because he thinks himselfimmortal. What numbers, once in fortune's lap high fed,
All men think all men mortal but themselves; Solicit the cold hand of charity !
Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate To shock us more, folicit it in vain!
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden Ye fiken fons of pleasure ! since in pains
dread; You rue more modifh visits, visit here,
But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, And breathe from your debauch; give, and reduce Soon clofe; where pals 'd the shaft no trace is found, Surfeit's dominion o'er you : but so great
As from the wing no scar the sky retains, Your impudence, you blush at what is right.
The parted wave no furrow from the keel; Happy! did sorrow feize on such alonc.
So dies in human hearts the thought of death. Not prudence can defend, or virtue fave;
Ev'n with the tender tear which nature theds Discale invades the chastest temperance, O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave. And punishment the guiltlets; and alarm, Thro' thickest lhades, pursues the fond of peace. Man's caution often into danger turns,
§ 181. Inconsistency of Man. Young. And, his guard falling, crushes him to death. AH! how unjust to nature and himself Not happiness itself makes good her name ;
Is thoughtless, thankless, inconfiftent man! Our very wiihes give us not our wish.
Like children baibling nonsente in their sports, How difiant oft the things we doat on most We cenfure nature for a span too thort; From that for which we doat, felicity!
That span too fhort we tax as tedious too; The Imoothe li course of nature has its pains ! Torture invention, all expedients tire, And truest friends, thro' crror, wound our rest. To lath the ling'ring moments into speed, Without misfortune, what calamities !
And whirl us (happy riddance!) from ourselves And what hoftilities without a foe!
Art, brainless art! our furious charioteer Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth. (For Nature's voice unftifled would recal) But endless is the list of human ills,
Drives headlong tow'rds the precipice of death; And fighis might sooner fail, than cause to figh. Death, mort our dread; death thus more dreadful
O what a riddle of absurdity!
(made : g 120. Death. Young.
Leifure is pain; takes off our chariot wheels;
How heavily we drag the load of life! BY EWARE, Lorenzo! a low ludden death. Bleft leisure is our (1:10; like that of Cain, How dreadful that deliberate surprite ! It inikes us wander; i ander einsch around
To fly that tyrant, Thought. As Atlas groan'd | And ftcais our embryos of iniquity.
§ 185. Old Age. Young.
Fall off apace', as yellow leaves from trees,
Till, left quite naked of their happiness,
in the chill blasts of winter they expire.
This is the coinmun lot.
For what, gay friend! is this escutchcon d
Which hangs out death in one eternal night? § 182. Fanity. Young.
A night that glooms us in the poon-tide ray,
Ard wraps our thought, at banquets, in the
Life's little fiage is a small eminence, [throud.
We high we fink, and are v hat we deplor'd; Nor death ner life delight us.
If time past
Lamenting, or lamented, all our lot!
And giv'n lure carncit of his final blow.
Pallid to thought, and ghalily! drown'd, all Ar once he draws the iting of life and death ;
drown'd He walls with Nature, and her paths are peace.
In that great deep which nothing disembogues !
Anch, dving, they bequeath'd the small renown. § 13: Taterna! Love. YOUNG.
The ruit are on the wing: How siect their fight! TATLERS zlome a Father's heart can know ; Already has the faral train took tire ;
Wat ferrut tides of itill eniovment flow A monot, and the world's blown up to thce; When brothers love! but it their hare ficcueis, The sun is darknets, and the itars are duft. They wage the war; but 'tis the Father bloeds.
§ 187. Communion with Pasi Hours. Yol'NG. § 19. Corfiience. YOUNG.
'T is greatly wife to talk with our past hours, TRETCITROUS Confcicnce! while the And ak them what report they bore to fcens to separa
[news. On rose ani myrtie, luild with fyren fong; And how they might have borne more welcome While she feems nodding o'cr her charge, to drop | Their anfiers form us hat men Experience call; On headlong App.titi' ühe ilachend rein, IF Wider's friend, hier beit ; if not, worft foe. And give us up to licenite, urrec:Id,
O reconcile ihein! Kind Experience cries, Unmark'd--fut, from behind her iccret stand, “ There's nothing here but what as nothing The flv informer uinutes irry fault,
weighs And her dread diary with horror filis.
“ The more our joy, the more we know it rain, Not the gro's Act alone crploys her pen; " And by success are tuior'd to delpair.” She reconnoisres Tancy's airy band,
Vor is it only thus, but inust be so. A watchful foc! ele foripidible ipy,
li bo krow's not this, tho' grey, is fill a child. Littning, o'chears the hisiri ni rur camp: Love then from earth the grasp of fond delic, Our daw ning purposes of hart explores, Weigh anchor, and fuae happier clime explore..
§ 188. Conscience. YOUNG. And spoil, like bales unopen'd to the sun.
Had thought been all, tweet speech had been CONSCIENCE, what art thou? Thou tremen
denied ; dous pow'r!
[terion too! Who doft inhabit us without our Icave;
Speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's criAnd ait within ourtelves, another fulf;
Thought in the mine may come forth gold or A tater-iclf, that loves to domineer,
When coin'd in words, we know its real worth. And treat the monarch frankly as the flave. How doit thou light a torci to diftant deeds!
If fterling, store it for thy future ute;
'Twili buy thee benefit, perhaps renown. Make the part pretent, and the future frown! How cver and anon anake the foul,
Thougtico, deliver'd, is the more pollesi; Astrih a pial of thunder, to strange horrors,
Teaching we leam, and giving we retain In this long reftlefs dream, which idcots hug;
The births of intellect, when dumb forgot. day, wite men fatter with the name of life!
Speech venulates cur intellectual fire;
Speech burnihes our mental magazine, @ 189. Lije. Young.
Brighitens ror ornament, and whets for use.
What numbers, theach'd in erudition, lie
Plung d to the hills in venerable toines,
If boint blest heirs ot half their mother's tongue! Yet foon man's hour is up, and we are gone. 'Tis thought's exchange, which, like th'alternate Warnings point out our danger; gnomo!15, time: puth As there are uiclefs when the sun is let,
Of waves conflicting, breaks the lcarned fcum, So those but when more gloricus Realon thines. And dcfucates the student's standing pool. Reaton should judge in all; in realon's eye, T.at fedentary thadow travels hard. But such our gravitatio.1 to the wrong,
§ 192. Wijilom, Friendship, y, and Happiness.
YOUNG.. So prene our hearts to shilper what we with, 'Tis later with the wife that he's aware:
WISDOM, tho' richer than Peruvian mines,
And liveeter than the fiveet ambrosial hive, A *Wilmin ton yocs ilower than the fun : What is thu but the means of Happiness ! And all mankind mistake their time of day, That unobtain'd, than folly more a fool; E: 'n aye ittelf. Fresh hopes are liouily lown A melancholy fool without her beils. In furrused brows. To gentle life's defcent
Friendthip, the ireans of wildom, richly gives Vi'c thut our eyes, and think it is a plain.
The precious end which makes our wisdom wife. W tak: fair days in winter for the spring, Nature, in zeal for human arity, And turn our bíllings into cane, Since oft
Dervies or damps an undivided joy. Man muít compute that age he cannot fiel, Joy is an import; joy is an exchange; H<lcarce velicves he's clder for his years. Jovs Hics monopolists : it cails for Two; Thus, at life's latuit eve, we klip in store Kich fruit! Heaven-planted never pluck'a byOnc. Ore disappoiitinent fure, to crown the rest, Veedful auxiliars are our friends, to give The disappointment of a promis'd hour. To focial inan truc reliíh of himself.
Full on ourselves defcending in a line,
Plcatiue's bricht beam is fieblc in delight;
Delight inzenie is taken by rebound;
Riverberated pleatiires tire the breast. Tv ive it a gord rame, thit fools inay iniy :
Ceriftial Hap; inch, wheneir the stomps For ensy to finail minds is t'attery.
To visit earth, one thrine the goddess finds, How many lift the head, look gay, and smile,
And one alone, to make her firect amends Against their coafciences! And this we know;
For abfent leaver--the botom of a friend;
Where heart meets heart, reci; rocally foft,
Beware the counterfeit : In pailion's flame and reverend grey ihrectcore is but a voucher,
Hearts moli, but melt like ice, icon harder froze.' That thirty told is true.
True love itrikes roct in Rcalon, pallion's foe;
I wrong her much-antendurs us for ever.
of friend thip's fairosi fruits, the fruit most fair Kicit thou, Lorenzo, what a fi jend contains: I, Virtue kilidling at a rival fire,
A b:es mixt nectar draw from frayant flow'rs, vind einvloutlı rapid in her race. Sa men, frem Friendship, Witcom and Delight; the fett enmity! cndcaring ftrife! Tivirs tied by nature, if they part they die. This carrics fucudfhip to her noontide point, Hift thou no friend to set thy inindas oach, [air, And gives the river of eternity. (themes, Good fenfc will itaghüte. Thoughts that up, tvant From Friendthip, which outlives my former
Glorious survivor of old Time and Death! [feeds, | Receive the blessing, and adore the chance
But for whom blossoms this Elysian How'r ? A death-bed's a detecter of the heart.
Whatever farce the boastful hero plays,
§ 196. Love. Young. Lorenzo, pride repress; nor hope to find LOVE calls for love. Not all the pride of A friend, but what has found a friend in thee.
beauty; All like the purchase, few the price will pay ;
Those eyes that tell us what the fun is made of; And this makes friends such miracles below. Thote lips whose touch is to be bought with life!
Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt:
All these pofleft are nought, but as they are $ 193. Friendship. YOUNG.
The proof, the subítance, of an inward palion,
But since friends grow not thick on ev'ry
§ 197. Pleasures of Meditatim. Young. Pause, ponder, fift; not cager in the choice,
FROM Dreams, where thought in fancy's maze
Punctual as lovers to the moment sworn,
Loft to the noble fallies of the foul!
Who think it folitude to be alone,
Communion fiveet ! communion large and ligh!
Then nearest these, when others most remote ; All focial virtues rising in his soul,
And all, ere long, shall be remote but these. As crystal clear, and finiling as they rise!
How dreadful, then, to meet them all alone, Here neclar flows; it fparkles in our fight;
A stranger ! unacknowledg'd! unapprovid' Rich to the taste, and genuine from the heart.
Now woo them; wed them; bind them to thy High-Savour'd bliss for gods! on earth how rare! To win thy with, creation has no more:
Or if we with a fourth, it is a friend194. Happiness. YOUNG. But friends how mortal | dang’rous the desire! THRICE happy they who flees in humble life,
Bencath the storm ambition blows, 'Tis meet
§ 198. Beauty. Young.
BEAUTY alone is but of little worth ; envy ; 'Tis all their pay for thofe superior carcs,
But when the soul and body of a piece Those pangs of heart, their vassals ne'er can feel. And are a fit reward for gallant actions.
Both shine alike, then they obtain a price, $ 195. Dissolution of a Virtuous Man. Young.
$ 199. Paffions. Young. The chamber where the good man meets his WHEN Reason, like the fkilful chariety Is privileg'd beyond the common walk
Can break the fiery passions to the hit, Of virtuous life, quire in the verge of heaven.
And, spite of their licentious fallics, keep
The radiant track of glory; pallions then
Firm in her feat, and swift in her career, And anguith, after rapture, how severe !
While here prefuming on the rights of Heaven.
For transport dost thou call on ev'ry hour, $ 200. Piffure of Narcilla, Description of ber Lorenzo At thy friend's expence be wise ; Funeral, and a Reflett on upon Man. YOUNG. Lean not on carth, 'twill pierce thee to the heart; SWEET hannonist! and beautiful as sweet! A broken reed at bent, but oft a Ipear;
And young as beautiful! and soft as young! On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires, And gay as tuft! and innocent as gay!
Turn, hopeleis thoughts ! turn from her:-And happy (it aught happy here) as good !
thought repellid For fortune tond had built her nest on high. Resenting rallies, and wakes ev'ry woe. Like birds quite exquisite of note and plume, Snatch'd ere thy primne, and in thy bridal hour! Transfix'd by fate (ivho loves a lofty mark) And when kind fortune, with thy lover, imild ! How from the fummit of the grove lhe fell, And when high favour'd thy fresh op'ning joys! And left it unharmonious ! All its charms And when blind man pronounc'd thy blits coniExtinguir'd is the wonders of her fong!
plete ! Her long still riorates in my ravish'd car, And on a foreign shore, where strangers wert! Srill melting there, and with voluptuous pain Strangers to thec; and, more surprising fill, (0 to forget her!) thrilling thro' my heart ! Strangers to kindnets wept: their eyes let fall
Song, Beauty, Youth, Love, Virtue, Joy! this Inhuman tears ; ftrange tears! that trickled down
A tendernes that call'd them more ferere;
O’er dus! a charity their dogs enjoy. Scorn the proud nan that is afham d to weep ;
What could I do? what fuccour? what resource ? Our tears indulg'd indeed deserve our íhame. With pious facrilege a grave I stole, Ye that e'er lost an angel ! pity me.
With impious picty that grave I wrong'd; Soon as the lustre languith'd in her eye, Short in my duty, coward in my grief! Dau ning a dimmer day on human fight; More like her murderer than friend, I crept And on her cheek, the residence of spring, With foft Tuspended step, and muffled deep Pale omen fat, and scatter'd fears arcund In midright darkness whisper'd my last figh. On all that saw (and who would ceale to gaze I whisper'd what fliould echo thro' their realms; That once had seen :)—with hafte, parental haste, Nor writ her name whose tomb should pierce the I few, I snatch'd her from the rigid north,
íkies. Her native bed, on which bleak Borcas blow, Presumptuous fear! How durft I dread her focs, And bore her ncarer to the fun; the fun
While mature's loudest dictates I obey'd ? (As if the luin could envy) check'd his beam, Pardon neceffity, blett shade! Of grief Denied his wonted succour; nor with more And indignation rival bursts 1 pour'd; Regret beheld her drooping, than the bells Half execration mingled with my pray'r; Of liics ; fairert lilies, not to fair!.
Kindled at man, while I his God ador'd; Qucen lilies! and ye painted populace Sore grudgʻd the savage land her sacred dust; Who dwell in fields, and lead ambrosial lives; Stamp'd the curs’d foil; and with humanity la inord and er ning dew your bcauries bathe, (Denied Narcilla) with'd them all a grave. And drink the sun; which gives your cheeks to Glows my resentment into guilt? What guilt And out-bluth (inine excepted) every fair; [glow, Can equal violations of the dead? You gladlier grew, ambitious of her hand, The dead how sacred ! Sacred is the dust Which often cropt your odours, inceníc meet Of this heaven-labour'd form, erect, divine;
To thought fo pure! Ye lovely fugitives! This heaven-assum'd majestic robe of earth Corral race with man! for man you smile; Hc deign'd to wear, who hung the vast expanse Why not smile at him too? You thare indeed With azure bright, and cloth’d the fun in gold. His sudden pats, but not his constant pain. When cr’ry pallion Sleeps that can offend;
So man is made, nought ministers delight, When strikes us ev'ry motive that can melt; But what his glowing paifions can engage;
When man can wreak his rancour uncontrould, And glowing paffions, bent on aught below, That strongest curb on insult and ill-will; Mua foon or late with anguilh turn the scale;
Then spleen to dust: the dust of innocence?