University of Virginia Library

The Impatient.

Enough, enough of this worlds fruitless Care,
And ev'n it's Pleasures I have suffer'd here.
I'm weary of Life's gross Hypocrisie,
With Plenty starv'd, cloy'd with Variety.
O happy, happy State, when I shall be
From fancy'd Good, and real Evil free!
When one short well spent Sigh shall me remove
From all the Cheats mistaken Mortals love!

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When, undeceiv'd by fancy'd shadows, I
Shall very Beauty in it's Fountain see!
O happy, happy State! Why do I stay?
Move faster, Time, how slowly dost thou fly,
As if the weight of Years had crippled thee?
Thou, Death's Procurer, quickly bring me safe
Into the cold Embraces of the Grave;
There shall I blest, at least shall quiet lie,
Till the Angelick Summons from on High
Call me to Bliss and real Life away.
Then shall devouring Flame, with fury hurl'd,
Revenge my quarrel on th' injurious World.
Then thou shalt cease, and Death himself shall die;
And both together lost and bury'd lie,
He in eternal Life, and thou in vast Eternity.