Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ye Sons of Humankind attend me all!
Ye Habitants of this sublunar Ball;
The Rich, the Poor, the Mean, the Nobly born,
Observe me well, nor my Instruction scorn.
My Lips discursive Science shall impart,
And all on Prudence meditate my Heart:
To mystic Truth in Allegory told
I bend my Ear; and to the Harp unfold.
In adverse Times what Fear have I to feel,
Tho' then my Guilt shou'd press my flying Heel?
Tho' some in boasted Heaps of Wealth confide,
And by their Treasures fortify their Pride,
No Bribe prevails with Heav'n; nor can it save
A ransom'd Brother from the gaping Grave:
For Heav'n-born Souls so poor a Price transcend,
As human Wealth; and let their Labour end.
If Life cou'd last for Ages long to come,
Yet hope not vainly to escape the Tomb.
Behold, a mournful Scene, before your Eyes
The frequent Fun'rals of the Grave and Wise:
How they, like Fools and Idiots are no more;
And leave to thankless Heirs their hoarded Store.
Yet still with empty Hopes their Toils engage,
In Buildings to remain from Age to Age;
Such as transmitted thro' a long Descent
May bear their Name, and be their Monument.

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Yet Pow'r and Titles to their Period haste,
'Tis not the Privilege of Man to last:
Too well with thoughtless Brutes may he compare,
Whose fleeting Spirit vanishes in Air.
A stupid Course! yet, in the beaten Way,
Their senseless Race approves of all they say.
Like Sheep to Slaughter they resign to Doom,
Their lifeless Limbs are bedded in the Tomb;
To Death's insatiate Teeth a pleasing Prey:
But when the Morning shall awake the Day,
The Just shall over them obtain the Sway.
In that Abode shall waste their lovely Bloom,
For ever banish'd from their former Home.
But God my ransom'd Spirit shall retrieve
From that dire Cave; for me shall he receive.
Then fear not Man; not tho' his Treasure swells
To vast Excess, and he in Splendor dwells:
Nor shall he bear, when he resigns his Breath,
His useless Riches to the Shades beneath;
Nor shall the pompous Ensigns, which attend
His Rites of Fun'ral, after him descend.
Yet while this vital Air the Mortal draws,
His own Felicity, the World's Applause,
He deems inseparable, to commend
The Man to Int'rest and himself a Friend.
The darkling Paths his Fathers trod before
Himself shall trace, and see the Sun no more.
The Man who does the Pinnacle attain,
If there the Distance turn his giddy Brain,
Too well with thoughtless Brutes may he compare,
Whose fleeting Spirit vanishes in Air.