Fruits of Retirement Or, Miscellaneous Poems, Moral and Divine. Being Some Contemplations, Letters, &c. Written on a Variety of Subjects and Occasions. By Mary Mollineux ... To which is Prefixed, Some Account of the Author |
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On the Sight of a Skull.
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 | Fruits of Retirement |  |
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On the Sight of a Skull.
Behold, Ambitious Lump of Clay refin'd,Thy Epilogue; see, see to what design'd!
So soon as thou wert Born, so soon as Air
Affords thee Breath, thy Vitals to repair;
So soon as thy small feeble Embrion Breast
Is of an active Power, unknown, possess'd;
So soon thou may'st expect the Dreadful Day,
When thou once more must be reduc'd to Clay;
And the whole Fabrick of thy Body must
Again be brought to its first nothing, Dust:
Then shall those Eyes, those Christal Eyes of thine,
Which now, like Sparkling Diamonds, do shine;
Their little Chambers circular forsake,
And them to Essence more obscure betake;
The tender Funnel of thy Nose, must thence
Corroded be, and lose its Smelling Sense;
And all the Volume of thy Face will be
So chang'd, none may thereby remember thee:
Therefore the hopes of all Terrestrial Glory,
Is Frivolous, and Vain, and Transitory.
Ah then, what cause hast thou, Presumptuous Man,
To boast thy self? Whereon, alas, where can
Thy vain Ambition build a Trophy now?
What Cause hath Majesty upon that Brow
T'Enthrone it self? Which must ere long become
A Thread-bare Skull, a simple naked Bone?
Therefore, who'er thou be, that dreads this strange,
To Flesh and Blood, this doleful, certain Change,
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To pass the time of thy Sojourning here
In pure Obedience to that Heav'nly Pow'r,
Who, when he pleaseth, can to Life restore
And give thy Soul assured Satisfaction
(In Him, who is our Life and Resurrection)
To rest with him; whereby the Dread and Fear,
That doth so frequently in some appear,
When Thoughts of this great Change doth rise in Mind,
Are vanish'd and dispell'd; they inward find
Such hearty Resignation, they can sing,
Grave, where's thy Victory? Death, where's thy Sting?
Sin, Death's sad Sting, must therefore conquer'd be,
Before poor Man this Joyful Day can see:
Then, being call'd, we freely may lay down
This Transitory Life, to gain a Crown
Of Life Eternal, with the Prince of Peace,
Where all Affliction shall for ever cease.
Then, having put on Immortality,
Our Souls shall Praise his Name Eternally.
1669.
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