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V. DREAD OF ANNIHILATION.
“Then Avarice and Ambition, Passions blind,
“Which beyond bounds of Right urge on mankind,
“Associates and ministers of crime,
“To labour nights and days upward to climb.—
“These rankling wounds that tend on mortal breath
“Are but occasion'd by the dread of Death:
“For Shame, Contempt, and Poverty severe
“Apart from sweet and stable life appear,
“Dwelling beside Death's portals. Hence men fear,
“And far, far off to flee them with false dread
“They strive, as from the dwellings of the dead;—
“Inflame sedition, civil wars, and heap
“Wealth upon wealth, slaughter on slaughter, steep
“Their hands in citizens' and kinsmen's blood,
“And find no safety but in solitude.
“Which beyond bounds of Right urge on mankind,
“Associates and ministers of crime,
“To labour nights and days upward to climb.—
“These rankling wounds that tend on mortal breath
“Are but occasion'd by the dread of Death:
“For Shame, Contempt, and Poverty severe
“Apart from sweet and stable life appear,
“Dwelling beside Death's portals. Hence men fear,
“And far, far off to flee them with false dread
“They strive, as from the dwellings of the dead;—
“Inflame sedition, civil wars, and heap
“Wealth upon wealth, slaughter on slaughter, steep
“Their hands in citizens' and kinsmen's blood,
“And find no safety but in solitude.
“'Tis for like cause, the same unconscious dread,
“That Envy pines away and hangs the head,—
“To see another rise before their sight,
“Be gaz'd upon and walk in honour's light,
“Themselves in darkness and in dust to lie.
“Others for statues and a name would die:
“Yea, oft so far proceeds this strange dismay,
“To mortal loathing of the light of day,
“Some rather than that misery abide
“From dread of Death by their own hands have died.”
But why this apprehension not to be,
“That Envy pines away and hangs the head,—
“To see another rise before their sight,
“Be gaz'd upon and walk in honour's light,
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“Others for statues and a name would die:
“Yea, oft so far proceeds this strange dismay,
“To mortal loathing of the light of day,
“Some rather than that misery abide
“From dread of Death by their own hands have died.”
This fear of non-existence, like a sea
Which secretly beneath our nature dwells,
And by some unseen influence heaves and swells;
Oft-times with this tempestuous fury wakes,
And all our being to its centre shakes?
'Tis that God's Breath within us gives to be
Partakers of His own eternity—
For this the unconscious soul toils day and night,
Turns in and out all things of sense and sight,—
For reconciled reunion with its God,—
For this in paths so alien hath it trod,
And through all phases of tumultuous strife
Annihilation flees, and clings to life.
Therefore we thus recoil, and strive to soar
From those sad shapes which sit beside death's door.
Yet but unreal phantoms are they found,
Mists which the vestibule alone surround.
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With Christ Himself in death's dark shades appear,
And reconciled with them in Him to die
Is to be clothed with His eternity.
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