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“But wilt thou doubt, and think it hard to die
“Whose life is but a death with wakeful eye?
“The greater part of life in sleep to lie,
“And through the day no less, as one asleep,
“In an unreal dream to laugh and weep:
“Thy mind oppress'd with apprehensions vain,
“Unable oft to find what gives thee pain:
“On all sides, like a drunken man , distress'd,
“In vague uncertainty of thine unrest.
“Whose life is but a death with wakeful eye?
“The greater part of life in sleep to lie,
“And through the day no less, as one asleep,
“In an unreal dream to laugh and weep:
“Thy mind oppress'd with apprehensions vain,
“Unable oft to find what gives thee pain:
“On all sides, like a drunken man , distress'd,
“In vague uncertainty of thine unrest.
“Thus heavily doth on men's spirits dwell
“A weight of which they seem thus sensible;
“But could they once of this the sources find,
“From whence so great a burden weighs the mind,
“And knew the cause of their own misery,
“They could not spend their lives as now we see,
“Each knowing not, yet seeking still to know
“What he would wish,—fast hurrying to and fro,
“As if to throw aside some load of pain,
“To change each place, yet no where to remain
“A weight of which they seem thus sensible;
“But could they once of this the sources find,
“From whence so great a burden weighs the mind,
“And knew the cause of their own misery,
“They could not spend their lives as now we see,
“Each knowing not, yet seeking still to know
“What he would wish,—fast hurrying to and fro,
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“To change each place, yet no where to remain
“From a great house one issues forth, o'ercome
“And sated with his home,—then back to home
“As suddenly returns; for he can find
“Abroad nought better than he left behind.
“With headlong haste one to his villa drives,
“As if his walls were burning; there arrives,
“And stands upon the threshold, in disdain
“And hesitation;—should he there remain,
“He sleeps and in oblivion settles down,
“Or starts again and hurries to the town.
“And sated with his home,—then back to home
“As suddenly returns; for he can find
“Abroad nought better than he left behind.
“With headlong haste one to his villa drives,
“As if his walls were burning; there arrives,
“And stands upon the threshold, in disdain
“And hesitation;—should he there remain,
“He sleeps and in oblivion settles down,
“Or starts again and hurries to the town.
“Thus each man from himself attempts to flee,
“But bears within him that same enemy
“From which he would escape, that frets the more,
“Nor doth of his disease the cause explore;
“Which did he well discern he soon would cast
“All other things aside, and to the last
“The nature of man's being strive to know:
“For 'tis not one short hour for weal or woe
“That is at stake,—but all eternity,
“All after death—the life that is to be.”
“But bears within him that same enemy
“From which he would escape, that frets the more,
“Nor doth of his disease the cause explore;
“Which did he well discern he soon would cast
“All other things aside, and to the last
“The nature of man's being strive to know:
“For 'tis not one short hour for weal or woe
“That is at stake,—but all eternity,
“All after death—the life that is to be.”
See Dr. Pusey's Advent Sermons, S. VIII. p. 110.—“Where well-nigh all countenances or motions are full of eagerness, anxiety; all bent on something, seeking, but finding not, because they are seeking all things out of God, all but Himself, except when, here and there, they at last become very emptiness, because they know no more what to seek or find, but have lost themselves.”
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