Psalm XLIX. Audite hæc omnes gentes auribus, &c.
I
Attend, O World, and bid thy Nations hear,
Those, who ly furthest off, and those more near,
A Psalm for the Sons of Korah.
Both rich, and poor, and high, and low,
My Song no diff'rence makes, and none do's know,
But those who serve, and those who rule,
The Souldier, Statesman, and the Fool,
The young, the old, the great, the small,
It do's without distinction call,
And like the grave, alike concerns, and equals All.
II
With God my Song: His Wisdom moves the Lyre,
And makes the chords in lofty sounds conspire:
With Him will I begin my Song,
His Wisdom shall conduct the strains along,
Shall life, and breath, and motion give,
Make them, and they my Voice to live;
Then the stops chang'd, on the same string,
I will in mighty Numbers sing
Triumphant Death, which next Him is the greatest King.
III
What profit's it to hoard up endless store
Of wealth for others, and my self be Poor?
Prevent my evil day with Cares,
To leave a Curse, and sorrow to my Heirs?
Since he who has most chains of Gold,
The Pris'ner life can never hold;
Can never pay a ransom down
For the fleet Soul away once gone,
And from the grave redeem his Brothers, or his own.
IV
Death throwes an heavier Chain than that o're all,
And proudest Monarchs at His Footstool fall;
Look how the Wise, the Brutish dye,
And in one Urn their lots and ashes lye:
The longest livers only have
A tedious journey to the grave;
Whil'st most a short way thither find,
And have their Pass-ports sooner sign'd,
Whither all come at last, and leave their wealth behind.
V
In vain by Monuments men hope to live,
And their fond Names to Lands and Houses give;
In vain they huge foundations lay
For Tombs, which have their Fate, as well as they;
No Honours bayl in this arrest,
But the same death waits Man, and Beast:
And though enough the Children know
Their Fathers folly, choose to go
With them, and count those greater fools, who do not so.
VI
They follow close their steps, their sayings hold,
Like Sheep they follow to th' Eternal fold;
Where till the Morning they are penn'd,
The Morning of that day, which ne're shall end;
Which Titles shall again renew,
And diff'rences the Grave ne're knew;
From some all beauty take away,
In greater lustre some display,
Raising them Gold, who buryed were but only Clay.
VII
Then shall I rise too, and with glory shine,
From the Graves power, kept by the power Divine,
It shall no longer trouble mee,
Nor know I why the Wise should troubled bee,
To see anothers stores encrease,
Since they disturb His present ease,
And must be left all, when he dyes;
Then heavy gold begins to rise,
And with his breath, away an empty Honour flies.
VIII
His former pleasures then avail him not,
But are by him, as he by his forgot:
Nothing remains of all he did,
When with his Fathers, he in night lyes hid;
That Wisdom only do's abide,
Which for the future did provide:
'Tis Wisdom sets the Man on high,
Wisdom the badge to know him by,
Without which like a Beast he lives, and all must die.
