 | The Modern Dunciad |  |
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THE PILGRIM.
I am a weary Pilgrim, on my way
To the far ocean of Eternity;
Silent, forlorn, and faint of heart, I stray,
And long to pass the brink—it must not be—
He, at whose voice the vivid lightnings flee,
And the loud thunders cease, hath plac'd me here;
And sooner may yon sun desert his sphere,
Those orbs unbidden shoot their course from Heav'n,
Than I, by fell despair and madness driv'n,
Plunge headlong in that dark mysterious sea—
Let Heav'n's own mandate set the pris'ner free.
To the far ocean of Eternity;
Silent, forlorn, and faint of heart, I stray,
And long to pass the brink—it must not be—
He, at whose voice the vivid lightnings flee,
And the loud thunders cease, hath plac'd me here;
And sooner may yon sun desert his sphere,
Those orbs unbidden shoot their course from Heav'n,
Than I, by fell despair and madness driv'n,
Plunge headlong in that dark mysterious sea—
Let Heav'n's own mandate set the pris'ner free.
Has life no higher end than joys of sense,
Inglorious ease, rude mirth, and low desire?
Is hope extinct with man when summon'd hence?
Dwells there no portion of ethereal fire
In his frail image, once the bright attire
Of genius, virtue, dignity, and worth?
Tho' for a little season bound to earth,
He was ordain'd by the immortal Sire,
For everlasting worlds, communion higher
With glorious spirits, perfected by grace,
Who suff'ring, fainted not, but run their race.
Inglorious ease, rude mirth, and low desire?
Is hope extinct with man when summon'd hence?
Dwells there no portion of ethereal fire
In his frail image, once the bright attire
Of genius, virtue, dignity, and worth?
Tho' for a little season bound to earth,
He was ordain'd by the immortal Sire,
For everlasting worlds, communion higher
With glorious spirits, perfected by grace,
Who suff'ring, fainted not, but run their race.
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How grand the contemplation! how sublime
To mark yon sun mount high in golden streams!
And think the immortal soul, unchain'd by time,
Shall rise refulgent like those orient beams—
But not to set—Hence, vain perplexing dreams!
Distract with doubt the dreary sceptic's mind—
Altho' the narrow path to me assign'd
Be strew'd with briers and thorns, and toil and care;
I ask not this philosophy to bear;
Enough for me the gracious promise giv'n,
Of time on earth, eternity in heav'n!
To mark yon sun mount high in golden streams!
And think the immortal soul, unchain'd by time,
Shall rise refulgent like those orient beams—
But not to set—Hence, vain perplexing dreams!
Distract with doubt the dreary sceptic's mind—
Altho' the narrow path to me assign'd
Be strew'd with briers and thorns, and toil and care;
I ask not this philosophy to bear;
Enough for me the gracious promise giv'n,
Of time on earth, eternity in heav'n!
Yet mindful of thy goodness, I implore
Thee, my eternal Father and my Friend,
Ere I am summon'd hence, and seen no more,
Patience and consolation thou wouldst send;
Grant me a blameless life, a peaceful end,
For bliss I may not ask this side the tomb—
Yet for thy mercy's sake, dispel the gloom
That clouds my spirit—make this shining frame,
This world of joy, prosperity, and fame,
Less dark to me, and desolate appear,
As long as 'tis thy will I linger here.
Thee, my eternal Father and my Friend,
Ere I am summon'd hence, and seen no more,
Patience and consolation thou wouldst send;
Grant me a blameless life, a peaceful end,
For bliss I may not ask this side the tomb—
Yet for thy mercy's sake, dispel the gloom
That clouds my spirit—make this shining frame,
This world of joy, prosperity, and fame,
Less dark to me, and desolate appear,
As long as 'tis thy will I linger here.
To die is painful only when we part
From those by friendship, nature, kindred dear;
These bind, with adamantine chain, the heart,
And give to death its terrors—how severe
To leave the few we lov'd and valued here,
To buffet with the world, and bear its frown!
Friend of the fatherless! look pitying down
On those I leave behind! be thou their stay,
Their guardian, guide thro' life's eventful day;
Let fate on them with milder influence shine,
Nor wound their hearts as it has wounded mine.
From those by friendship, nature, kindred dear;
These bind, with adamantine chain, the heart,
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To leave the few we lov'd and valued here,
To buffet with the world, and bear its frown!
Friend of the fatherless! look pitying down
On those I leave behind! be thou their stay,
Their guardian, guide thro' life's eventful day;
Let fate on them with milder influence shine,
Nor wound their hearts as it has wounded mine.
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