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 | The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes |  |
Hear I, or dream I hear, their distant strain,
Sweet to the soul, and tasting strong of heaven,
Soft-wafted on celestial Pity's plume,
Through the vast spaces of the universe,
To cheer me in this melancholy gloom?
O when will Death, (now stingless,) like a friend,
Admit me of their choir? O when will Death
This mouldering, old partition-wall throw down?
Give beings, one in nature, one abode?
O Death Divine! that giv'st us to the skies!
Great Future! glorious Patron of the Past
And Present! when shall I thy shrine adore?
From Nature's continent, immensely wide,
Immensely bless'd, this little isle of life,
This dark, incarcerating colony,
Divides us. Happy day that breaks our chain!
That manumits; that calls from exile home;
That leads to Nature's great metropolis,
And re-admits us, through the guardian hand
Of elder brothers, to our Father's throne,
Who hears our Advocate, and, through his wounds
Beholding man, allows that tender name.
'Tis this makes Christian triumph a command;
'Tis this makes joy a duty to the wise:
'Tis impious in a good man to be sad.
Sweet to the soul, and tasting strong of heaven,
Soft-wafted on celestial Pity's plume,
Through the vast spaces of the universe,
To cheer me in this melancholy gloom?
O when will Death, (now stingless,) like a friend,
Admit me of their choir? O when will Death
This mouldering, old partition-wall throw down?
Give beings, one in nature, one abode?
O Death Divine! that giv'st us to the skies!
Great Future! glorious Patron of the Past
And Present! when shall I thy shrine adore?
From Nature's continent, immensely wide,
Immensely bless'd, this little isle of life,
This dark, incarcerating colony,
Divides us. Happy day that breaks our chain!
That manumits; that calls from exile home;
That leads to Nature's great metropolis,
And re-admits us, through the guardian hand
Of elder brothers, to our Father's throne,
Who hears our Advocate, and, through his wounds
Beholding man, allows that tender name.
'Tis this makes Christian triumph a command;
'Tis this makes joy a duty to the wise:
63
| The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes | |