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Poems Divine, and Humane

By Thomas Beedome

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On Æternity.
  

On Æternity.

Good God! eternity, what can,
Astonish more the faith of man?
When it shall please thee God that I
On my unfriendly sicke bed lye,
And those about me shall descry,
In my pale face deaths livery.
When breath shall fleete, and leave for me
The relique of deaths victory,
A grim sad coarse, oh must my light,
Astonisht soule, then take her flight,
To that long home, where it shall see,
Or blest, or curst Æternity?


Shall shee for ever, ever dwell,
Or Saint in heaven, or fiend in hell?
When ages numberlesse are gone,
Shal't be as if wee had past none?
'Tis so my God, which when I thinke;
My staggard reason 'gins to sinke:
My braine turnes giddy, and weake I
Am rapt in wonders extasie:
Forgive mee Lord, that thus presume,
To question thy eternall doome.
And since our minute life must gaine
Pleasures eternall, or such paine:
Assist mee so my God, that when
I shall forsake the sonnes of men,
My jocond soule may sainted bee,
In heaven, and thy eternity.
Em. D.