( 265 ) Where all my joys and wishes are confin'd, Come, my beloved, then let us repair To those bleft feats where we'll our flames improve; Oh, with what heat fhall I caress thee there! And in sweet transports give up all my love. The UNKNOWN WORLD. Verfes occafioned by hearing a pass-bell. By the Reverend Mr. St- n. But what's beyond death ?.--Who shall draw that vail?--Hughes's fiege of Damascus. HARK, my gay friend, that folemn toll Speaks the departure of my foul: 'Tis gone, that's all we know----not where, All behind which is yet unseen! We talk of heav'n, we talk of hell; But what they mean, no tongue can tell! Heav'n is the realm where angels are, And hell the chaos of despair! But what these awful words imply, None of us know before we die! Whether we will or no, we must Take the fucceeding world on trust. This (266) This hour perhaps our friend is well; Death ftruck the next, he cries, farewell! I die !----and then, for ought we fee, Ceases at once to breath and be. Thus launch'd from life's ambiguous fhore, To diftant worlds we know not where. And yet who knows, if friends we lov'd, And yet no notices they give, Nor tell us where, nor how they live; FINI S. |