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 | The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes |  |
Heaven gives the needful, but neglected, call.
What day, what hour, but knocks at human hearts,
To wake the soul to sense of future scenes?
Deaths stand like Mercurys in every way,
And kindly point us to our journey's end.
Pope, who couldst make immortals! art thou dead?
I give thee joy: nor will I take my leave,
So soon to follow. Man but dives in death;
Dives from the sun, in fairer day to rise:
The grave his subterranean road to bliss.
Yes, infinite Indulgence plann'd it so:
Through various parts our glorious story runs;
Time gives the preface, endless Age unrolls
The volume (ne'er unroll'd) of human fate.
What day, what hour, but knocks at human hearts,
To wake the soul to sense of future scenes?
Deaths stand like Mercurys in every way,
And kindly point us to our journey's end.
Pope, who couldst make immortals! art thou dead?
I give thee joy: nor will I take my leave,
117
Dives from the sun, in fairer day to rise:
The grave his subterranean road to bliss.
Yes, infinite Indulgence plann'd it so:
Through various parts our glorious story runs;
Time gives the preface, endless Age unrolls
The volume (ne'er unroll'd) of human fate.
| The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes | |