Matthew Prior. Poems on Several Occasions The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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POWER;
THE
THIRD BOOK. |
 | Matthew Prior. Poems on Several Occasions |  |
314
POWER; THE THIRD BOOK.
The ARGUMENT.
Solomon considers Man through the several Stages and Conditions of Life; and concludes in general, that We are all Miserable. He reflects more particularly upon the Trouble and Uncertainty of Greatness and Power; gives some Instances thereof from Adam down to Himself; and still concludes that All is Vanity. He reasons again upon Life, Death, and a future Being; finds Human Wisdom too imperfect to resolve his Doubts; has Recourse to Religion; is informed by an Angel, what shall happen to Himself, his Family, and his Kingdom, 'till the Redemption of Israel: and, upon the whole, resolves to submit his Enquiries and Anxieties to the Will of his Creator.
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[_]
TEXTS chiefly alluded to in this Book.
Or ever the Silver Cord be loosed, or the golden Bowl be broken, or the Pitcher be broken at the Fountain, or the Wheel broken at the Cistern. Ecclesiastes, Chap. XII. Vers. 6.
The Sun ariseth, and the Sun goeth down, and hasteth to his Place where He arose. Ecclesiastes, Chap. I. Vers. 5.
The Wind goeth towards the South, and turneth about unto the North. It whirleth about continually; and the Wind returneth again according to his Circuit. Vers. 6.
All the Rivers run into the Sea: yet the Sea is not full. Unto the Place from whence the Rivers come, thither they return again. Vers. 7.
Then shall the Dust return to the Earth, as it was: and the Spirit shall return unto God who gave it. Ecclesiastes, Chap. XII. Vers. 7.
Now when Solomon had made an End of Praying, the Fire came down from Heaven, and consumed the Burnt-offering, and the Sacrifices; and the Glory of the Lord filled the House. II Chronicles, Chap. VII. Vers. I.
By the Rivers of Babylon, there We sat down; Yea We wept, when We remembred Sion &c. Psalm CXXXVII. Vers. I.
I said of Laughter, it is mad; and of Mirth, what doeth it? Ecclesiastes, Chap. II. Vers. 2.
—No Man can find out the Work that God maketh, from the Beginning to the End. Ecclesiastes, Chap. III. Vers. II.
Whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that Men should fear before Him. Vers. 14.
Let us hear the Conclusion of the whole Matter; Fear God, and keep his Commandments; for this is the whole Duty of Man. Ecclesiastes, Chap. XII. Verse. 13.
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Come then, my Soul: I call Thee by that Name,
Thou busie Thing, from whence I know I am:
For knowing that I am, I know Thou art;
Since That must needs exist, which can impart.
But how Thou cam'st to be, or whence Thy Spring:
For various of Thee Priests and Poets sing.
Thou busie Thing, from whence I know I am:
For knowing that I am, I know Thou art;
Since That must needs exist, which can impart.
But how Thou cam'st to be, or whence Thy Spring:
For various of Thee Priests and Poets sing.
Hear'st Thou submissive, but a lowly Birth,
Some sep'rate Particles of finer Earth,
A plain Effect, which Nature must beget,
As Motion orders, and as Atoms meet;
Companion of the Body's Good or Ill,
From Force of Instinct more than Choice of Will;
Conscious of Fear or Valor, Joy or Pain,
As the wild Courses of the Blood ordain;
Who as Degrees of Heat and Cold prevail,
In Youth dost flourish, and with Age shalt fail;
'Till mingl'd with thy Part'ner's latest Breath
Thou fly'st, dissolv'd in Air, and lost in Death.
Some sep'rate Particles of finer Earth,
A plain Effect, which Nature must beget,
As Motion orders, and as Atoms meet;
Companion of the Body's Good or Ill,
From Force of Instinct more than Choice of Will;
Conscious of Fear or Valor, Joy or Pain,
As the wild Courses of the Blood ordain;
Who as Degrees of Heat and Cold prevail,
In Youth dost flourish, and with Age shalt fail;
'Till mingl'd with thy Part'ner's latest Breath
Thou fly'st, dissolv'd in Air, and lost in Death.
Or if Thy great Existence would aspire
To Causes more sublime; of Heav'nly Fire
Wer't Thou a Spark struck off, a sep'rate Ray,
Ordain'd to mingle with Terrestrial Clay;
With it condemn'd for certain Years to dwell,
To grieve it's Frailties, and it's Pains to feel;
To teach it Good and Ill, Disgrace or Fame;
Pale it with Rage, or redden it with Shame:
To guide it's Actions with informing Care,
In Peace to Judge, to Conquer in the War;
Render it Agile, Witty, Valiant, Sage,
As fits the various Course of human Age;
Till as the Earthly Part decays and falls,
The Captive breaks Her Prison's mould'ring Walls;
Hovers a-while upon the sad Remains,
Which now the Pile, or Sepulchre contains;
And thence with Liberty unbounded flies,
Impatient to regain Her native Skies.
To Causes more sublime; of Heav'nly Fire
Wer't Thou a Spark struck off, a sep'rate Ray,
Ordain'd to mingle with Terrestrial Clay;
With it condemn'd for certain Years to dwell,
To grieve it's Frailties, and it's Pains to feel;
To teach it Good and Ill, Disgrace or Fame;
Pale it with Rage, or redden it with Shame:
To guide it's Actions with informing Care,
In Peace to Judge, to Conquer in the War;
317
As fits the various Course of human Age;
Till as the Earthly Part decays and falls,
The Captive breaks Her Prison's mould'ring Walls;
Hovers a-while upon the sad Remains,
Which now the Pile, or Sepulchre contains;
And thence with Liberty unbounded flies,
Impatient to regain Her native Skies.
Whate'er Thou art, where-e'er ordain'd to go:
(Points which We rather may dispute, than know)
Come on, Thou little Inmate of this Breast,
Which for Thy Sake from Passions I divest:
For these, Thou say'st, raise all the stormy Strife,
Which hinder Thy Repose, and trouble Life.
Be the fair Level of Thy Actions laid,
As Temp'rance wills, and Prudence may perswade;
Be Thy Affections undisturb'd and clear,
Guided to what may Great or Good appear;
And try if Life be worth the Liver's Care.
(Points which We rather may dispute, than know)
Come on, Thou little Inmate of this Breast,
Which for Thy Sake from Passions I divest:
For these, Thou say'st, raise all the stormy Strife,
Which hinder Thy Repose, and trouble Life.
Be the fair Level of Thy Actions laid,
As Temp'rance wills, and Prudence may perswade;
Be Thy Affections undisturb'd and clear,
Guided to what may Great or Good appear;
And try if Life be worth the Liver's Care.
Amass'd in Man there justly is beheld
What thro' the whole Creation has excell'd:
The Life and Growth of Plants, of Beasts the Sense,
The Angel's Forecast and Intelligence:
Say from these glorious Seeds what Harvest flows;
Recount our Blessings, and compare our Woes.
In it's true Light let clearest Reason see
The Man dragg'd out to Act, and forc'd to Be;
Helpless and Naked on a Woman's Knees
To be expos'd or rear'd as She may please;
Feel her Neglect, and pine from her Disease.
His tender Eye by too direct a Ray
Wounded, and flying from unpractis'd Day;
His Heart assaulted by invading Air,
And beating fervent to the vital War;
To his Young Sense how various Forms appear;
That strike his Wonder, and excite his Fear?
By his Distortions he reveals his Pains;
He by his Tears, and by his Sighs complains;
'Till Time and Use assist the Infant Wretch,
By broken Words, and Rudiments of Speech,
His Wants in plainer Characters to show,
And paint more perfect Figures of his Woe.
Condemn'd to sacrifice his childish Years
To babling Ign'rance, and to empty Fears;
To pass the riper Period of his Age,
Acting his Part upon a crowded Stage;
To lasting Toils expos'd, and endless Cares,
To open Dangers, and to secret Snares;
To Malice which the vengeful Foe intends,
And the more dangerous Love of seeming Friends.
His Deeds examin'd by the People's Will,
Prone to forget the Good, and blame the Ill:
Or sadly censur'd in their curs'd Debate,
Who in the Scorner's, or the Judge's Seat
Dare to condemn the Virtue which They hate.
Or would he rather leave this frantic Scene;
And Trees and Beasts prefer to Courts and Men?
In the remotest Wood and lonely Grott
Certain to meet that worst of Evils, Thought;
Diff'rent Ideas to his Mem'ry brought:
Some intricate, as are the pathless Woods;
Impetuous some, as the descending Floods:
With anxious Doubts, with raging Passions torn,
No sweet Companion near with whom to mourn;
He hears the Echoing Rock return his Sighs;
And from himself the frighted Hermit flies.
What thro' the whole Creation has excell'd:
The Life and Growth of Plants, of Beasts the Sense,
The Angel's Forecast and Intelligence:
Say from these glorious Seeds what Harvest flows;
Recount our Blessings, and compare our Woes.
In it's true Light let clearest Reason see
The Man dragg'd out to Act, and forc'd to Be;
Helpless and Naked on a Woman's Knees
To be expos'd or rear'd as She may please;
Feel her Neglect, and pine from her Disease.
His tender Eye by too direct a Ray
Wounded, and flying from unpractis'd Day;
His Heart assaulted by invading Air,
And beating fervent to the vital War;
To his Young Sense how various Forms appear;
That strike his Wonder, and excite his Fear?
By his Distortions he reveals his Pains;
He by his Tears, and by his Sighs complains;
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By broken Words, and Rudiments of Speech,
His Wants in plainer Characters to show,
And paint more perfect Figures of his Woe.
Condemn'd to sacrifice his childish Years
To babling Ign'rance, and to empty Fears;
To pass the riper Period of his Age,
Acting his Part upon a crowded Stage;
To lasting Toils expos'd, and endless Cares,
To open Dangers, and to secret Snares;
To Malice which the vengeful Foe intends,
And the more dangerous Love of seeming Friends.
His Deeds examin'd by the People's Will,
Prone to forget the Good, and blame the Ill:
Or sadly censur'd in their curs'd Debate,
Who in the Scorner's, or the Judge's Seat
Dare to condemn the Virtue which They hate.
Or would he rather leave this frantic Scene;
And Trees and Beasts prefer to Courts and Men?
In the remotest Wood and lonely Grott
Certain to meet that worst of Evils, Thought;
Diff'rent Ideas to his Mem'ry brought:
Some intricate, as are the pathless Woods;
Impetuous some, as the descending Floods:
With anxious Doubts, with raging Passions torn,
No sweet Companion near with whom to mourn;
He hears the Echoing Rock return his Sighs;
And from himself the frighted Hermit flies.
Thus, thro' what Path soe'er of Life We rove,
Rage companies our Hate, and Grief our Love:
Vex'd with the present Moment's heavy Gloom,
Why seek We Brightness from the Years to come?
Disturb'd and broken like a sick Man's Sleep,
Our troubl'd Thoughts to distant Prospects leap;
Desirous still what flies us to o'ertake:
For Hope is but the Dream of Those that wake:
But looking back, We see the dreadful Train
Of Woes, a-new which were We to sustain,
We should refuse to tread the Path again.
Still adding Grief, still counting from the first;
Judging the latest Evils still the worst;
And sadly finding each progressive Hour
Heighten their Number, and augment their Pow'r;
Till by one countless Sum of Woes opprest,
Hoary with Cares, and Ignorant of Rest,
We find the vital Springs relax'd and worn:
Compell'd our common Impotence to mourn,
Thus, thro' the Round of Age, to Childhood We return;
Reflecting find, that naked from the Womb
We yesterday came forth; that in the Tomb
Naked again We must To-morrow lye,
Born to lament, to labor, and to dye.
Rage companies our Hate, and Grief our Love:
Vex'd with the present Moment's heavy Gloom,
Why seek We Brightness from the Years to come?
Disturb'd and broken like a sick Man's Sleep,
Our troubl'd Thoughts to distant Prospects leap;
Desirous still what flies us to o'ertake:
For Hope is but the Dream of Those that wake:
But looking back, We see the dreadful Train
Of Woes, a-new which were We to sustain,
We should refuse to tread the Path again.
319
Judging the latest Evils still the worst;
And sadly finding each progressive Hour
Heighten their Number, and augment their Pow'r;
Till by one countless Sum of Woes opprest,
Hoary with Cares, and Ignorant of Rest,
We find the vital Springs relax'd and worn:
Compell'd our common Impotence to mourn,
Thus, thro' the Round of Age, to Childhood We return;
Reflecting find, that naked from the Womb
We yesterday came forth; that in the Tomb
Naked again We must To-morrow lye,
Born to lament, to labor, and to dye.
Pass We the Ills, which each Man feels or dreads,
The Weight or fall'n, or hanging o'er our Heads;
The Bear, The Lyon, Terrors of the Plain,
The Sheepfold scatter'd, and the Shepherd slain;
The frequent Errors of the pathless Wood,
The giddy Precipice, and the dang'rous Flood:
The noisom Pest'lence, that in open War
Terrible, marches thro' the Mid-day Air,
And scatters Death; the Arrow that by Night
Cuts the dank Mist, and fatal wings it's Flight;
The billowing Snow, and Violence of the Show'r,
That from the Hills disperse their dreadful Store,
And o'er the Vales collected Ruin pour;
The Worm that gnaws the ripening Fruit, sad Guest,
Canker or Locust hurtful to infest
The Blade; while Husks elude the Tiller's Care,
And Eminence of Want distinguishes the Year.
The Weight or fall'n, or hanging o'er our Heads;
The Bear, The Lyon, Terrors of the Plain,
The Sheepfold scatter'd, and the Shepherd slain;
The frequent Errors of the pathless Wood,
The giddy Precipice, and the dang'rous Flood:
The noisom Pest'lence, that in open War
Terrible, marches thro' the Mid-day Air,
And scatters Death; the Arrow that by Night
Cuts the dank Mist, and fatal wings it's Flight;
The billowing Snow, and Violence of the Show'r,
That from the Hills disperse their dreadful Store,
And o'er the Vales collected Ruin pour;
The Worm that gnaws the ripening Fruit, sad Guest,
Canker or Locust hurtful to infest
The Blade; while Husks elude the Tiller's Care,
And Eminence of Want distinguishes the Year.
Pass we the slow Disease, and subtil Pain,
Which our weak Frame is destin'd to sustain;
The cruel Stone, with congregated War
Tearing his bloody Way; the cold Catarrh,
With frequent Impulse, and continu'd Strife,
Weak'ning the wasted Seats of irksom Life;
The Gout's fierce Rack, the burning Feaver's Rage,
The sad Experience of Decay; and Age,
Her self the soarest Ill; while Death, and Ease,
Oft and in vain invok'd, or to appease,
Or end the Grief, with hasty Wings receed
From the vext Patient, and the sickly Bed.
Which our weak Frame is destin'd to sustain;
The cruel Stone, with congregated War
Tearing his bloody Way; the cold Catarrh,
With frequent Impulse, and continu'd Strife,
Weak'ning the wasted Seats of irksom Life;
The Gout's fierce Rack, the burning Feaver's Rage,
The sad Experience of Decay; and Age,
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Oft and in vain invok'd, or to appease,
Or end the Grief, with hasty Wings receed
From the vext Patient, and the sickly Bed.
Nought shall it profit, that the charming Fair,
Angelic, softest Work of Heav'n, draws near
To the cold shaking paralytic Hand,
Senseless of Beauty's Touch, or Love's Command,
Nor longer apt, or able to fulfill
The Dictates of it's feeble Master's Will.
Angelic, softest Work of Heav'n, draws near
To the cold shaking paralytic Hand,
Senseless of Beauty's Touch, or Love's Command,
Nor longer apt, or able to fulfill
The Dictates of it's feeble Master's Will.
Nought shall the Psaltry, and the Harp avail,
The pleasing Song, or well repeated Tale,
When the quick Spirits their warm March forbear;
And numbing Coldness has unbrac'd the Ear.
The pleasing Song, or well repeated Tale,
When the quick Spirits their warm March forbear;
And numbing Coldness has unbrac'd the Ear.
The verdant Rising of the flow'ry Hill,
The Vale enamell'd, and the Crystal Rill,
The Ocean rolling, and the shelly Shoar,
Beautiful Objects, shall delight no more;
When the lax'd Sinews of the weaken'd Eye
In wat'ry Damps, or dim Suffusion lye.
Day follows Night; the Clouds return again
After the falling of the later Rain:
But to the Aged-blind shall ne'er return
Grateful Vicissitude: He still must mourn
The Sun, and Moon, and ev'ry Starry Light
Eclips'd to Him, and lost in everlasting Night.
The Vale enamell'd, and the Crystal Rill,
The Ocean rolling, and the shelly Shoar,
Beautiful Objects, shall delight no more;
When the lax'd Sinews of the weaken'd Eye
In wat'ry Damps, or dim Suffusion lye.
Day follows Night; the Clouds return again
After the falling of the later Rain:
But to the Aged-blind shall ne'er return
Grateful Vicissitude: He still must mourn
The Sun, and Moon, and ev'ry Starry Light
Eclips'd to Him, and lost in everlasting Night.
Behold where Age's wretched Victim lies:
See his Head trembling, and his half-clos'd Eyes:
Frequent for Breath his panting Bosom heaves:
To broken Sleeps his remnant Sense He gives;
And only by his Pains, awaking finds He Lives.
See his Head trembling, and his half-clos'd Eyes:
Frequent for Breath his panting Bosom heaves:
To broken Sleeps his remnant Sense He gives;
And only by his Pains, awaking finds He Lives.
Loos'd by devouring Time the Silver Cord
Dissever'd lies: unhonor'd from the Board
The Crystal Urn, when broken, is thrown by;
And apter Utensils their Place supply.
These Things and Thou must share One equal Lot;
Dye and be lost, corrupt and be forgot;
While still another, and another Race
Shall now supply, and now give up the Place.
From Earth all came, to Earth must all return;
Frail as the Cord, and brittle as the Urn.
Dissever'd lies: unhonor'd from the Board
The Crystal Urn, when broken, is thrown by;
And apter Utensils their Place supply.
These Things and Thou must share One equal Lot;
Dye and be lost, corrupt and be forgot;
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Shall now supply, and now give up the Place.
From Earth all came, to Earth must all return;
Frail as the Cord, and brittle as the Urn.
But be the Terror of these Ills suppress'd:
And view We Man with Health and Vigor blest.
Home He returns with the declining Sun,
His destin'd Task of Labor hardly done;
Goes forth again with the ascending Ray,
Again his Travel for his Bread to pay,
And find the Ill sufficient to the Day.
Hap'ly at Night He does with Horror shun
A widow'd Daughter, or a dying Son:
His Neighbor's Off-spring He To-morrow sees;
And doubly feels his Want in their Increase:
The next Day, and the next he must attend
His Foe triumphant, or his buried Friend.
In ev'ry Act and Turn of Life he feels
Public Calamities, or Household Ills:
The due Reward to just Desert refus'd:
The Trust betray'd, the Nuptial Bed abus'd:
The Judge corrupt, the long depending Cause,
And doubtful Issue of misconstru'd Laws:
The crafty Turns of a dishonest State,
And violent Will of the wrong-doing Great:
The Venom'd Tongue injurious to his Fame,
Which nor can Wisdom shun, nor fair Advice reclaim.
And view We Man with Health and Vigor blest.
Home He returns with the declining Sun,
His destin'd Task of Labor hardly done;
Goes forth again with the ascending Ray,
Again his Travel for his Bread to pay,
And find the Ill sufficient to the Day.
Hap'ly at Night He does with Horror shun
A widow'd Daughter, or a dying Son:
His Neighbor's Off-spring He To-morrow sees;
And doubly feels his Want in their Increase:
The next Day, and the next he must attend
His Foe triumphant, or his buried Friend.
In ev'ry Act and Turn of Life he feels
Public Calamities, or Household Ills:
The due Reward to just Desert refus'd:
The Trust betray'd, the Nuptial Bed abus'd:
The Judge corrupt, the long depending Cause,
And doubtful Issue of misconstru'd Laws:
The crafty Turns of a dishonest State,
And violent Will of the wrong-doing Great:
The Venom'd Tongue injurious to his Fame,
Which nor can Wisdom shun, nor fair Advice reclaim.
Esteem We these, my Friends, Event and Chance,
Produc'd as Atoms form their flutt'ring Dance?
Or higher yet their Essence may We draw
From destin'd Order, and Eternal Law?
Again, my Muse, the cruel Doubt repeat:
Spring they, I say, from Accident, or Fate?
Yet such, We find, they are, as can controll
The servile Actions of our wav'ring Soul;
Can fright, can alter, or can chain the Will;
Their Ills all built on Life, that fundamental Ill.
Produc'd as Atoms form their flutt'ring Dance?
Or higher yet their Essence may We draw
From destin'd Order, and Eternal Law?
Again, my Muse, the cruel Doubt repeat:
Spring they, I say, from Accident, or Fate?
Yet such, We find, they are, as can controll
The servile Actions of our wav'ring Soul;
Can fright, can alter, or can chain the Will;
Their Ills all built on Life, that fundamental Ill.
O fatal Search! in which the lab'ring Mind,
Still press'd with Weight of Woe, still hopes to find
A Shadow of Delight, a Dream of Peace,
From Years of Pain, one Moment of Release;
Hoping at least She may Her self deceive,
Against Experience willing to believe,
Desirous to rejoice, condemn'd to grieve.
Still press'd with Weight of Woe, still hopes to find
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From Years of Pain, one Moment of Release;
Hoping at least She may Her self deceive,
Against Experience willing to believe,
Desirous to rejoice, condemn'd to grieve.
Happy the Mortal Man, who now at last
Has thro' this doleful Vale of Mis'ry past;
Who to his destin'd Stage has carry'd on
The tedious Load, and laid his Burden down;
Whom the cut Brass, or wounded Marble shows
Victor o'er Life, and all Her Train of Woes.
He happyer yet, who privileg'd by Fate
To shorter Labor, and a lighter Weight,
Receiv'd but Yesterday the Gift of Breath,
Order'd To-morrow to return to Death.
But O! beyond Description happyest He,
Who ne'er must roll on Life's tumultuous Sea;
Who with bless'd Freedom from the gen'ral Doom
Exempt, must never force the teeming Womb,
Nor see the Sun, nor sink into the Tomb.
Has thro' this doleful Vale of Mis'ry past;
Who to his destin'd Stage has carry'd on
The tedious Load, and laid his Burden down;
Whom the cut Brass, or wounded Marble shows
Victor o'er Life, and all Her Train of Woes.
He happyer yet, who privileg'd by Fate
To shorter Labor, and a lighter Weight,
Receiv'd but Yesterday the Gift of Breath,
Order'd To-morrow to return to Death.
But O! beyond Description happyest He,
Who ne'er must roll on Life's tumultuous Sea;
Who with bless'd Freedom from the gen'ral Doom
Exempt, must never force the teeming Womb,
Nor see the Sun, nor sink into the Tomb.
Who breaths, must suffer; and who thinks, must mourn;
And He alone is bless'd, who ne'er was born.
And He alone is bless'd, who ne'er was born.
“Yet in thy turn, Thou frowning Preacher, hear:
“Are not these general Maxims too severe?
“Say: cannot Pow'r secure it's Owner's Bliss?
“And is not Wealth the potent Sire of Peace?
“Are Victors bless'd with Fame, or Kings with Ease?
“Are not these general Maxims too severe?
“Say: cannot Pow'r secure it's Owner's Bliss?
“And is not Wealth the potent Sire of Peace?
“Are Victors bless'd with Fame, or Kings with Ease?
I tell Thee, Life is but one common Care;
And Man was born to suffer, and to fear.
And Man was born to suffer, and to fear.
“But is no Rank, no Station, no Degree
“From this contagious Taint of Sorrow free?
“From this contagious Taint of Sorrow free?
None, Mortal, None: Yet in a bolder Strain
Let Me this melancholy Truth maintain:
But hence, Ye Worldly, and Prophane, retire:
For I adapt my Voice, and raise my Lyre
To Notions not by Vulgar Ear receiv'd:
Ye still must covet Life, and be deceiv'd:
Your very Fear of Death shall make Ye try
To catch the Shade of Immortality;
Wishing on Earth to linger, and to save
Part of it's Prey from the devouring Grave;
To those who may survive Ye, to bequeath
Something entire, in spight of Time, and Death;
A fancy'd Kind of Being to retrieve,
And in a Book, or from a Building live.
False Hope! vain Labor! let some Ages fly:
The Dome shall moulder, and the Volume dye:
Wretches, still taught, still will Ye think it strange,
That all the Parts of this great Fabric change;
Quit their old Station, and Primæval Frame;
And lose their Shape, their Essence, and their Name?
Let Me this melancholy Truth maintain:
But hence, Ye Worldly, and Prophane, retire:
For I adapt my Voice, and raise my Lyre
To Notions not by Vulgar Ear receiv'd:
Ye still must covet Life, and be deceiv'd:
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To catch the Shade of Immortality;
Wishing on Earth to linger, and to save
Part of it's Prey from the devouring Grave;
To those who may survive Ye, to bequeath
Something entire, in spight of Time, and Death;
A fancy'd Kind of Being to retrieve,
And in a Book, or from a Building live.
False Hope! vain Labor! let some Ages fly:
The Dome shall moulder, and the Volume dye:
Wretches, still taught, still will Ye think it strange,
That all the Parts of this great Fabric change;
Quit their old Station, and Primæval Frame;
And lose their Shape, their Essence, and their Name?
Reduce the Song: our Hopes, our Joys are vain:
Our Lot is Sorrow; and Our Portion Pain.
Our Lot is Sorrow; and Our Portion Pain.
What Pause from Woe, what Hopes of Comfort bring
The Name of Wise or Great, of Judge or King?
What is a King? A Man condemn'd to bear
The public Burden of the Nation's Care;
Now crown'd some angry Faction to appease;
Now falls a Victim to the People's Ease:
From the first blooming of his ill-taught Youth,
Nourish'd in Flatt'ry, and estrang'd from Truth:
At Home surrounded by a servile Crowd,
Prompt to abuse, and in Detraction loud:
Abroad begirt with Men, and Swords, and Spears;
His very State acknowledging his Fears:
Marching amidst a thousand Guards, He shows
His secret Terror of a thousand Foes;
In War however Prudent, Great, or Brave,
To blind Events, and fickle Chance a Slave:
Seeking to settle what for ever flies;
Sure of the Toil, uncertain of the Prize.
The Name of Wise or Great, of Judge or King?
What is a King? A Man condemn'd to bear
The public Burden of the Nation's Care;
Now crown'd some angry Faction to appease;
Now falls a Victim to the People's Ease:
From the first blooming of his ill-taught Youth,
Nourish'd in Flatt'ry, and estrang'd from Truth:
At Home surrounded by a servile Crowd,
Prompt to abuse, and in Detraction loud:
Abroad begirt with Men, and Swords, and Spears;
His very State acknowledging his Fears:
Marching amidst a thousand Guards, He shows
His secret Terror of a thousand Foes;
In War however Prudent, Great, or Brave,
To blind Events, and fickle Chance a Slave:
Seeking to settle what for ever flies;
Sure of the Toil, uncertain of the Prize.
But He returns with Conquest on his Brow;
Brings up the Triumph, and absolves the Vow:
The Captive Generals to his Carr are ty'd:
The Joyful Citizens tumultuous Tyde
Echoing his Glory, gratify his Pride.
What is this Triumph? Madness, Shouts, and Noise,
One great Collection of the People's Voice.
The Wretches he brings back, in Chains relate,
What may To-morrow be the Victor's Fate.
The Spoils and Trophies born before Him, show
National Loss, and Epidemic Woe,
Various Distress, which He and His may know.
Does He not mourn the valiant Thousands slain;
The Heroes, once the Glory of the Plain,
Left in the Conflict of the Fatal Day,
Or the Wolve's Portion, or the Vulture's Prey?
Does He not weep the Lawrel, which he wears,
Wet with the Soldier's Blood, and Widow's Tears?
Brings up the Triumph, and absolves the Vow:
The Captive Generals to his Carr are ty'd:
The Joyful Citizens tumultuous Tyde
Echoing his Glory, gratify his Pride.
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One great Collection of the People's Voice.
The Wretches he brings back, in Chains relate,
What may To-morrow be the Victor's Fate.
The Spoils and Trophies born before Him, show
National Loss, and Epidemic Woe,
Various Distress, which He and His may know.
Does He not mourn the valiant Thousands slain;
The Heroes, once the Glory of the Plain,
Left in the Conflict of the Fatal Day,
Or the Wolve's Portion, or the Vulture's Prey?
Does He not weep the Lawrel, which he wears,
Wet with the Soldier's Blood, and Widow's Tears?
See, where He comes, the Darling of the War!
See Millions crowding round the gilded Car!
In the vast Joys of this Ecstatic Hour,
And full Fruition of successful Pow'r,
One Moment and one Thought might let Him scan
The various Turns of Life, and fickle State of Man.
See Millions crowding round the gilded Car!
In the vast Joys of this Ecstatic Hour,
And full Fruition of successful Pow'r,
One Moment and one Thought might let Him scan
The various Turns of Life, and fickle State of Man.
Are the dire Images of sad Distrust,
And Popular Change, obscur'd a-mid the Dust,
That rises from the Victor's rapid Wheel?
Can the loud Clarion, or shrill Fife repel
The inward Cries of Care? can Nature's Voice
Plaintive be drown'd, or lessen'd in the Noise;
Tho' Shouts as Thunder loud afflict the Air;
Stun the Birds now releas'd, and shake the Iv'ry Chair?
And Popular Change, obscur'd a-mid the Dust,
That rises from the Victor's rapid Wheel?
Can the loud Clarion, or shrill Fife repel
The inward Cries of Care? can Nature's Voice
Plaintive be drown'd, or lessen'd in the Noise;
Tho' Shouts as Thunder loud afflict the Air;
Stun the Birds now releas'd, and shake the Iv'ry Chair?
Yon' Crowd (He might reflect) yon' joyful Crowd,
Pleas'd with my Honors, in my Praises loud,
(Should fleeting Vict'ry to the Vanquish'd go;
Should She depress my Arms, and raise the Foe;)
Would for That Foe with equal Ardor wait
At the high Palace, or the crowded Gate;
With restless Rage would pull my Statues down;
And cast the Brass a-new to His Renown.
Pleas'd with my Honors, in my Praises loud,
(Should fleeting Vict'ry to the Vanquish'd go;
Should She depress my Arms, and raise the Foe;)
Would for That Foe with equal Ardor wait
At the high Palace, or the crowded Gate;
With restless Rage would pull my Statues down;
And cast the Brass a-new to His Renown.
O impotent Desire of Worldly Sway!
That I, who make the Triumph of To-day,
May of To-morrow's Pomp one Part appear,
Ghastly with Wounds, and lifeless on the Bier!
Then (Vileness of Mankind!) then of all These,
Whom my dilated Eye with Labor sees,
Would one, alas! repeat Me Good, or Great?
Wash my pale Body, or bewail my Fate?
Or, march'd I chain'd behind the Hostile Carr,
The Victor's Pastime, and the Sport of War;
Would One, would One his pitying Sorrow lend,
Or be so poor, to own He was my Friend?
That I, who make the Triumph of To-day,
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Ghastly with Wounds, and lifeless on the Bier!
Then (Vileness of Mankind!) then of all These,
Whom my dilated Eye with Labor sees,
Would one, alas! repeat Me Good, or Great?
Wash my pale Body, or bewail my Fate?
Or, march'd I chain'd behind the Hostile Carr,
The Victor's Pastime, and the Sport of War;
Would One, would One his pitying Sorrow lend,
Or be so poor, to own He was my Friend?
Avails it then, O Reason, to be Wise?
To see this cruel Scene with quicker Eyes?
To know with more Distinction to complain,
And have superior Sense in feeling Pain?
To see this cruel Scene with quicker Eyes?
To know with more Distinction to complain,
And have superior Sense in feeling Pain?
Let us revolve that Roll with strictest Eye,
Where safe from Time distinguish'd Actions lye;
And judge if Greatness be exempt from Pain,
Or Pleasure ever may with Pow'r remain.
Where safe from Time distinguish'd Actions lye;
And judge if Greatness be exempt from Pain,
Or Pleasure ever may with Pow'r remain.
Adam, great Type, for whom the World was made,
The fairest Blessing to his Arms convey'd,
A charming Wife; and Air, and Sea, and Land,
And all that move therein, to his Command
Render'd obedient: say, my Pensive Muse,
What did these golden Promises produce?
Scarce tasting Life, He was of Joy bereav'd:
One Day, I think, in Paradise He liv'd;
Destin'd the next His Journey to pursue,
Where wounding Thorns, and cursed Thistles grew.
E'er yet He earns his Bread, a-down his Brow,
Inclin'd to Earth, his lab'ring Sweat must flow:
His Limbs must ake, with daily Toils oppress'd;
E'er long-wish'd Night brings necessary Rest:
Still viewing with Regret his Darling Eve,
He for Her Follies, and His own must grieve.
Bewailing still a-fresh their hapless Choice;
His Ear oft frighted with the imag'd Voice
Of Heav'n, when first it thunder'd; oft his View
A-ghast, as when the Infant Light'ning flew;
And the stern Cherub stop'd the fatal Road,
Arm'd with the Flames of an Avenging GOD.
His Younger Son on the polluted Ground,
First Fruit of Death, lies Plaintif of a Wound
Giv'n by a Brother's Hand: His Eldest Birth
Flies, mark'd by Heav'n, a Fugitive o'er Earth.
Yet why these Sorrows heap'd upon the Sire,
Becomes nor Man, nor Angel to enquire.
The fairest Blessing to his Arms convey'd,
A charming Wife; and Air, and Sea, and Land,
And all that move therein, to his Command
Render'd obedient: say, my Pensive Muse,
What did these golden Promises produce?
Scarce tasting Life, He was of Joy bereav'd:
One Day, I think, in Paradise He liv'd;
Destin'd the next His Journey to pursue,
Where wounding Thorns, and cursed Thistles grew.
E'er yet He earns his Bread, a-down his Brow,
Inclin'd to Earth, his lab'ring Sweat must flow:
His Limbs must ake, with daily Toils oppress'd;
E'er long-wish'd Night brings necessary Rest:
Still viewing with Regret his Darling Eve,
He for Her Follies, and His own must grieve.
Bewailing still a-fresh their hapless Choice;
His Ear oft frighted with the imag'd Voice
Of Heav'n, when first it thunder'd; oft his View
A-ghast, as when the Infant Light'ning flew;
326
Arm'd with the Flames of an Avenging GOD.
His Younger Son on the polluted Ground,
First Fruit of Death, lies Plaintif of a Wound
Giv'n by a Brother's Hand: His Eldest Birth
Flies, mark'd by Heav'n, a Fugitive o'er Earth.
Yet why these Sorrows heap'd upon the Sire,
Becomes nor Man, nor Angel to enquire.
Each Age sinn'd on; and Guilt advanc'd with Time:
The Son still added to the Father's Crime;
'Till God arose, and great in Anger said:
Lo! it repenteth Me, that Man was made.
Withdraw thy Light, Thou Sun! be dark, Ye Skies!
And from your deep Abyss, Ye Waters, rise!
The Son still added to the Father's Crime;
'Till God arose, and great in Anger said:
Lo! it repenteth Me, that Man was made.
Withdraw thy Light, Thou Sun! be dark, Ye Skies!
And from your deep Abyss, Ye Waters, rise!
The frighted Angels heard th'Almighty Lord;
And o'er the Earth from wrathful Viols pour'd
Tempests and Storm, obedient to His Word.
Mean time, His Providence to Noah gave
The Guard of All, that He design'd to save.
Exempt from general Doom the Patriarch stood;
Contemn'd the Waves, and triumph'd o'er the Flood.
And o'er the Earth from wrathful Viols pour'd
Tempests and Storm, obedient to His Word.
Mean time, His Providence to Noah gave
The Guard of All, that He design'd to save.
Exempt from general Doom the Patriarch stood;
Contemn'd the Waves, and triumph'd o'er the Flood.
The Winds fall silent; and the Waves decrease:
The Dove brings Quiet, and the Olive Peace:
Yet still His Heart does inward Sorrow feel,
Which Faith alone forbids Him to reveal.
If on the backward World his Views are cast;
'Tis Death diffus'd, and universal Waste.
Present (sad Prospect!) can He Ought descry,
But (what affects his melancholy Eye)
The Beauties of the Antient Fabric lost,
In Chains of craggy Hill, or Lengths of dreary Coast?
While to high Heav'n his pious Breathings turn'd,
Weeping He hop'd, and Sacrificing mourn'd;
When of GOD's Image only Eight He found
Snatch'd from the Wat'ry Grave, and sav'd from Nations drown'd;
And of three Sons, the future Hopes of Earth,
The Seed, whence Empires must receive their Birth,
One He foresees excluded Heav'nly Grace,
And mark'd with Curses, fatal to his Race.
The Dove brings Quiet, and the Olive Peace:
Yet still His Heart does inward Sorrow feel,
Which Faith alone forbids Him to reveal.
If on the backward World his Views are cast;
'Tis Death diffus'd, and universal Waste.
Present (sad Prospect!) can He Ought descry,
But (what affects his melancholy Eye)
The Beauties of the Antient Fabric lost,
In Chains of craggy Hill, or Lengths of dreary Coast?
While to high Heav'n his pious Breathings turn'd,
Weeping He hop'd, and Sacrificing mourn'd;
When of GOD's Image only Eight He found
Snatch'd from the Wat'ry Grave, and sav'd from Nations drown'd;
And of three Sons, the future Hopes of Earth,
The Seed, whence Empires must receive their Birth,
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And mark'd with Curses, fatal to his Race.
Abraham, Potent Prince, the Friend of GOD,
Of Human Ills must bear the destin'd Load;
By Blood and Battles must his Pow'r maintain,
And slay the Monarchs, e'er He rules the Plain;
Must deal just Portions of a servile Life
To a proud handmaid, and a peevish Wife;
Must with the Mother leave the weeping Son,
In Want to wander, and in Wilds to groan;
Must take his other Child, his Age's Hope
To trembling Moriam's melancholy Top,
Order'd to drench his Knife in filial Blood;
Destroy his Heir, or disobey his GOD.
Of Human Ills must bear the destin'd Load;
By Blood and Battles must his Pow'r maintain,
And slay the Monarchs, e'er He rules the Plain;
Must deal just Portions of a servile Life
To a proud handmaid, and a peevish Wife;
Must with the Mother leave the weeping Son,
In Want to wander, and in Wilds to groan;
Must take his other Child, his Age's Hope
To trembling Moriam's melancholy Top,
Order'd to drench his Knife in filial Blood;
Destroy his Heir, or disobey his GOD.
Moses beheld that GOD; but how beheld?
The Deity in radiant Beams conceal'd,
And clouded in a deep Abyss of Light;
While present, too severe for Human Sight,
Nor staying longer than one swift-wing'd Night.
The following Days, and Months, and Years decreed
To fierce Encounter, and to toilsome Deed.
His Youth with Wants and Hardships must engage:
Plots and Rebellions must disturb his Age.
Some Corah still arose, some Rebel Slave,
Prompter to sink the State, than He to save:
And Israel did his Rage so far provoke,
That what the God-head wrote, the Prophet broke.
His Voice scarce heard, his Dictates scarce believ'd,
In Camps, in Arms, in Pilgrimage, He liv'd;
And dy'd obedient to severest Law,
Forbid to tread the promis'd Land, He saw.
The Deity in radiant Beams conceal'd,
And clouded in a deep Abyss of Light;
While present, too severe for Human Sight,
Nor staying longer than one swift-wing'd Night.
The following Days, and Months, and Years decreed
To fierce Encounter, and to toilsome Deed.
His Youth with Wants and Hardships must engage:
Plots and Rebellions must disturb his Age.
Some Corah still arose, some Rebel Slave,
Prompter to sink the State, than He to save:
And Israel did his Rage so far provoke,
That what the God-head wrote, the Prophet broke.
His Voice scarce heard, his Dictates scarce believ'd,
In Camps, in Arms, in Pilgrimage, He liv'd;
And dy'd obedient to severest Law,
Forbid to tread the promis'd Land, He saw.
My Father's Life was one long Line of Care,
A Scene of Danger, and a State of War.
Alarm'd, expos'd, his Childhood must engage
The Bear's rough Gripe, and foaming Lion's Rage.
By various Turns his threaten'd Youth must fear
Goliah's lifted Sword, and Saul's emitted Spear.
Forlorn He must, and persecuted fly;
Climb the steep Mountain, in the Cavern lye;
And often ask, and be refus'd to dye.
A Scene of Danger, and a State of War.
Alarm'd, expos'd, his Childhood must engage
The Bear's rough Gripe, and foaming Lion's Rage.
By various Turns his threaten'd Youth must fear
Goliah's lifted Sword, and Saul's emitted Spear.
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Climb the steep Mountain, in the Cavern lye;
And often ask, and be refus'd to dye.
For ever, from His manly Toils, are known
The Weight of Pow'r, and Anguish of a Crown.
What Tongue can speak the restless Monarch's Woes;
When GOD, and Nathan were declar'd his Foes?
When ev'ry Object his Offence revil'd,
The Husband murder'd, and the Wife defil'd,
The Parent's Sins impress'd upon the dying Child?
What Heart can think the Grief which He sustain'd;
When the King's Crime brought Vengeance on the Land;
And the inexorable Prophet's Voice
Gave Famine, Plague, or War; and bid him fix his Choice?
The Weight of Pow'r, and Anguish of a Crown.
What Tongue can speak the restless Monarch's Woes;
When GOD, and Nathan were declar'd his Foes?
When ev'ry Object his Offence revil'd,
The Husband murder'd, and the Wife defil'd,
The Parent's Sins impress'd upon the dying Child?
What Heart can think the Grief which He sustain'd;
When the King's Crime brought Vengeance on the Land;
And the inexorable Prophet's Voice
Gave Famine, Plague, or War; and bid him fix his Choice?
He dy'd; and Oh! may no Reflection shed
It's poys'nous Venom on the Royal Dead:
Yet the unwilling Truth must be express'd;
Which long has labor'd in this pensive Breast:
Dying He added to my Weight of Care:
He made Me to his Crimes undoubted Heir:
Left his unfinish'd Murder to his Son,
And Joab's Blood intail'd on Judah's Crown.
It's poys'nous Venom on the Royal Dead:
Yet the unwilling Truth must be express'd;
Which long has labor'd in this pensive Breast:
Dying He added to my Weight of Care:
He made Me to his Crimes undoubted Heir:
Left his unfinish'd Murder to his Son,
And Joab's Blood intail'd on Judah's Crown.
Young as I was, I hasted to fulfill
The cruel Dictates of My Parent's Will.
Of his fair Deeds a distant View I took;
But turn'd the Tube upon his Faults to look;
Forgot his Youth, spent in his Country's Cause,
His Care of Right, his Rev'rence to the Laws:
But could with Joy his Years of Folly trace,
Broken and old in Bathsheba's Embrace;
Could follow Him, where e'er He stray'd from Good,
And cite his sad Example; whilst I trod
Paths open to Deceit, and track'd with Blood.
Soon docile to the secret Acts of Ill,
With Smiles I could betray, with Temper kill:
Soon in a Brother could a Rival view;
Watch all his Acts, and all his Ways pursue.
In vain for Life He to the Altar fled:
Ambition and Revenge have certain Speed.
Ev'n there, My Soul, ev'n there He should have fell;
But that my Interest did my Rage conceal.
Doubling my Crime, I promise, and deceive;
Purpose to slay, whilst swearing to forgive.
Treaties, Perswasions, Sighs, and Tears are vain:
With a mean Lie curs'd Vengeance I sustain;
Joyn Fraud to Force, and Policy to Pow'r;
'Till of the destin'd Fugitive secure,
In solemn State to Parricide I rise;
And, as GOD lives, this Day my Brother dies.
The cruel Dictates of My Parent's Will.
Of his fair Deeds a distant View I took;
But turn'd the Tube upon his Faults to look;
Forgot his Youth, spent in his Country's Cause,
His Care of Right, his Rev'rence to the Laws:
But could with Joy his Years of Folly trace,
Broken and old in Bathsheba's Embrace;
Could follow Him, where e'er He stray'd from Good,
And cite his sad Example; whilst I trod
Paths open to Deceit, and track'd with Blood.
Soon docile to the secret Acts of Ill,
With Smiles I could betray, with Temper kill:
Soon in a Brother could a Rival view;
Watch all his Acts, and all his Ways pursue.
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Ambition and Revenge have certain Speed.
Ev'n there, My Soul, ev'n there He should have fell;
But that my Interest did my Rage conceal.
Doubling my Crime, I promise, and deceive;
Purpose to slay, whilst swearing to forgive.
Treaties, Perswasions, Sighs, and Tears are vain:
With a mean Lie curs'd Vengeance I sustain;
Joyn Fraud to Force, and Policy to Pow'r;
'Till of the destin'd Fugitive secure,
In solemn State to Parricide I rise;
And, as GOD lives, this Day my Brother dies.
Be Witness to my Tears, Celestial Muse!
In vain I would forget, in vain excuse
Fraternal Blood by my Direction spilt;
In vain on Joab's Head transfer the Guilt:
The Deed was acted by the Subject's Hand;
The Sword was pointed by the King's Command.
Mine was the Murder: it was Mine alone;
Years of Contrition must the Crime attone:
Nor can my guilty Soul expect Relief,
But from a long Sincerity of Grief.
In vain I would forget, in vain excuse
Fraternal Blood by my Direction spilt;
In vain on Joab's Head transfer the Guilt:
The Deed was acted by the Subject's Hand;
The Sword was pointed by the King's Command.
Mine was the Murder: it was Mine alone;
Years of Contrition must the Crime attone:
Nor can my guilty Soul expect Relief,
But from a long Sincerity of Grief.
With an imperfect Hand, and trembling Heart,
Her Love of Truth superior to her Art,
Already the reflecting Muse has trac'd
The mournful Figures of my Action past.
The pensive Goddess has already taught,
How vain is Hope, and how vexatious Thought;
From growing Childhood to declining Age,
How tedious ev'ry Step, how gloomy ev'ry Stage.
This Course of Vanity almost compleat,
Tir'd in the Field of Life, I hope Retreat
In the still Shades of Death: for Dread and Pain,
And Grief will find their Shafts elanc'd in vain,
And their Points broke, retorted from the Head,
Safe in the Grave, and free among the Dead.
Her Love of Truth superior to her Art,
Already the reflecting Muse has trac'd
The mournful Figures of my Action past.
The pensive Goddess has already taught,
How vain is Hope, and how vexatious Thought;
From growing Childhood to declining Age,
How tedious ev'ry Step, how gloomy ev'ry Stage.
This Course of Vanity almost compleat,
Tir'd in the Field of Life, I hope Retreat
In the still Shades of Death: for Dread and Pain,
And Grief will find their Shafts elanc'd in vain,
And their Points broke, retorted from the Head,
Safe in the Grave, and free among the Dead.
Yet tell Me, frighted Reason! what is Death?
Blood only stopp'd, and interrupted Breath?
The utmost Limit of a narrow Span,
And End of Motion which with Life began?
As smoke that rises from the kindling Fires
Is seen this Moment, and the next expires:
As empty Clouds by rising Winds are tost,
Their fleeting Forms scarce sooner found than lost:
So vanishes our State: so pass our Days:
So Life but opens now, and now decays:
The Cradle and the Tomb, alas! so nigh;
To live is scarce distinguish'd from to dye.
Blood only stopp'd, and interrupted Breath?
330
And End of Motion which with Life began?
As smoke that rises from the kindling Fires
Is seen this Moment, and the next expires:
As empty Clouds by rising Winds are tost,
Their fleeting Forms scarce sooner found than lost:
So vanishes our State: so pass our Days:
So Life but opens now, and now decays:
The Cradle and the Tomb, alas! so nigh;
To live is scarce distinguish'd from to dye.
Cure of the Miser's Wish, and Coward's Fear,
Death only shews Us, what We knew was near.
With Courage therefore view the pointed Hour;
Dread not Death's Anger; but expect his Pow'r;
Nor Nature's Law with fruitless Sorrow mourn;
But dye, O Mortal Man! for Thou wast born.
Death only shews Us, what We knew was near.
With Courage therefore view the pointed Hour;
Dread not Death's Anger; but expect his Pow'r;
Nor Nature's Law with fruitless Sorrow mourn;
But dye, O Mortal Man! for Thou wast born.
Cautious thro' Doubt; by Want of Courage, Wise,
To such Advice, the Reas'ner still replies.
To such Advice, the Reas'ner still replies.
Yet measuring all the long continu'd Space,
Ev'ry successive Day's repeated Race,
Since Time first started from his pristin Goal,
'Till He had reach'd that Hour, wherein my Soul
Joyn'd to my Body swell'd the Womb; I was,
(At least I think so) Nothing: must I pass
Again to Nothing, when this vital Breath
Ceasing, consigns Me o'er to Rest, and Death?
Must the whole Man, amazing Thought! return
To the cold Marble, or contracted Urn?
And never shall those Particles agree,
That were in Life this Individual He?
But sever'd, must They join the general Mass,
Thro' other Forms, and Shapes ordain'd to pass;
Nor Thought nor Image kept of what He was?
Does the great Word that gave him Sense, ordain,
That Life shall never wake that Sense again?
And will no Pow'r his sinking Spirits save
From the dark Caves of Death, and Chambers of the Grave?
Ev'ry successive Day's repeated Race,
Since Time first started from his pristin Goal,
'Till He had reach'd that Hour, wherein my Soul
Joyn'd to my Body swell'd the Womb; I was,
(At least I think so) Nothing: must I pass
Again to Nothing, when this vital Breath
Ceasing, consigns Me o'er to Rest, and Death?
Must the whole Man, amazing Thought! return
To the cold Marble, or contracted Urn?
And never shall those Particles agree,
That were in Life this Individual He?
But sever'd, must They join the general Mass,
Thro' other Forms, and Shapes ordain'd to pass;
Nor Thought nor Image kept of what He was?
Does the great Word that gave him Sense, ordain,
That Life shall never wake that Sense again?
And will no Pow'r his sinking Spirits save
From the dark Caves of Death, and Chambers of the Grave?
331
Each Evening I behold the setting Sun
With down-ward Speed into the Ocean run:
Yet the same Light (pass but some fleeting Hours)
Exerts his Vigor, and renews his Pow'rs;
Starts the bright Race again: His constant Flame
Rises and sets, returning still the Same.
I mark the various Fury of the Winds:
These neither Seasons guide, nor Order binds:
They now dilate, and now contract their Force:
Various their Speed, but endless is their Course.
From his first Fountain and beginning Ouze,
Down to the Sea each Brook, and Torrent flows:
Tho' sundry Drops or leave, or swell the Stream;
The Whole still runs, with equal Pace, the Same.
Still other Waves supply the rising Urns;
And the eternal Floud no Want of Water mourns.
With down-ward Speed into the Ocean run:
Yet the same Light (pass but some fleeting Hours)
Exerts his Vigor, and renews his Pow'rs;
Starts the bright Race again: His constant Flame
Rises and sets, returning still the Same.
I mark the various Fury of the Winds:
These neither Seasons guide, nor Order binds:
They now dilate, and now contract their Force:
Various their Speed, but endless is their Course.
From his first Fountain and beginning Ouze,
Down to the Sea each Brook, and Torrent flows:
Tho' sundry Drops or leave, or swell the Stream;
The Whole still runs, with equal Pace, the Same.
Still other Waves supply the rising Urns;
And the eternal Floud no Want of Water mourns.
Why then must Man obey the sad Decree,
Which subjects neither Sun, nor Wind, nor Sea?
Which subjects neither Sun, nor Wind, nor Sea?
A Flow'r, that does with opening Morn arise,
And flourishing the Day, at Evening dyes;
A Winged Eastern Blast, just skimming o'er
The Ocean's Brow, and sinking on the Shore;
A Fire, whose Flames thro' crackling Stubble fly;
A Meteor shooting from the Summer Sky;
A Bowl a-down the bending Mountain roll'd;
A Bubble breaking, and a Fable told;
A Noon-tide Shadow, and a Mid-night Dream;
Are Emblems, which with Semblance apt proclaim
Our Earthly Course: But, O my Soul! so fast
Must Life run off; and Death for ever last?
And flourishing the Day, at Evening dyes;
A Winged Eastern Blast, just skimming o'er
The Ocean's Brow, and sinking on the Shore;
A Fire, whose Flames thro' crackling Stubble fly;
A Meteor shooting from the Summer Sky;
A Bowl a-down the bending Mountain roll'd;
A Bubble breaking, and a Fable told;
A Noon-tide Shadow, and a Mid-night Dream;
Are Emblems, which with Semblance apt proclaim
Our Earthly Course: But, O my Soul! so fast
Must Life run off; and Death for ever last?
This dark Opinion, sure, is too confin'd:
Else whence this Hope, and Terror of the Mind?
Does Something still, and Somewhere yet remain,
Reward or Punishment, Delight or Pain?
Say: shall our Relicks second Birth receive?
Sleep We to wake, and only dye to live?
When the sad Wife has clos'd her Husband's Eyes,
And pierc'd the Echoing Vault with doleful Cries;
Lyes the pale Corps not yet entirely Dead?
The Spirit only from the Body fled,
The grosser Part of Heat and Motion void,
To be by Fire, or Worm, or Time destroy'd;
The Soul, immortal Substance, to remain,
Conscious of Joy, and capable of Pain?
And if Her Acts have been directed well,
While with her friendly Clay She deign'd to dwell;
Shall She with Safety reach her pristine Seat?
Find her Rest endless, and her Bliss compleat?
And while the buried Man We idly mourn;
Do Angels joy to see His better Half return?
But if She has deform'd this Earthly Life
With murd'rous Rapine, and seditious Strife;
Amaz'd, repuls'd, and by those Angels driv'n
From the AEtherial Seat, and blissful Heav'n,
In everlasting Darkness must She lye,
Still more unhappy, that She cannot dye?
Else whence this Hope, and Terror of the Mind?
Does Something still, and Somewhere yet remain,
Reward or Punishment, Delight or Pain?
Say: shall our Relicks second Birth receive?
Sleep We to wake, and only dye to live?
When the sad Wife has clos'd her Husband's Eyes,
And pierc'd the Echoing Vault with doleful Cries;
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The Spirit only from the Body fled,
The grosser Part of Heat and Motion void,
To be by Fire, or Worm, or Time destroy'd;
The Soul, immortal Substance, to remain,
Conscious of Joy, and capable of Pain?
And if Her Acts have been directed well,
While with her friendly Clay She deign'd to dwell;
Shall She with Safety reach her pristine Seat?
Find her Rest endless, and her Bliss compleat?
And while the buried Man We idly mourn;
Do Angels joy to see His better Half return?
But if She has deform'd this Earthly Life
With murd'rous Rapine, and seditious Strife;
Amaz'd, repuls'd, and by those Angels driv'n
From the AEtherial Seat, and blissful Heav'n,
In everlasting Darkness must She lye,
Still more unhappy, that She cannot dye?
Amid Two Seas on One small Point of Land
Weary'd, uncertain, and amaz'd We stand:
On either Side our Thoughts incessant turn:
Forward We dread; and looking back We mourn.
Losing the Present in this dubious Hast;
And lost Our selves betwixt the Future, and the Past.
Weary'd, uncertain, and amaz'd We stand:
On either Side our Thoughts incessant turn:
Forward We dread; and looking back We mourn.
Losing the Present in this dubious Hast;
And lost Our selves betwixt the Future, and the Past.
These cruel Doubts contending in my Breast,
My Reason stagg'ring, and my Hopes oppress'd,
Once more I said: once more I will enquire,
What is this little, agile, pervious Fire,
This flutt'ring Motion, which We call the Mind?
How does She act? and where is She confin'd?
Have We the Pow'r to guide Her, as We please?
Whence then those Evils, that obstruct our Ease?
We Happiness pursue; We fly from Pain;
Yet the Pursuit, and yet the Flight is vain:
And, while poor Nature labors to be blest,
By Day with Pleasure, and by Night with Rest;
Some stronger Pow'r eludes our sickly Will;
Dashes our rising Hope with certain Ill;
And makes Us with reflective Trouble see,
That all is destin'd, which We fancy free.
My Reason stagg'ring, and my Hopes oppress'd,
Once more I said: once more I will enquire,
What is this little, agile, pervious Fire,
This flutt'ring Motion, which We call the Mind?
How does She act? and where is She confin'd?
Have We the Pow'r to guide Her, as We please?
Whence then those Evils, that obstruct our Ease?
We Happiness pursue; We fly from Pain;
Yet the Pursuit, and yet the Flight is vain:
And, while poor Nature labors to be blest,
By Day with Pleasure, and by Night with Rest;
Some stronger Pow'r eludes our sickly Will;
Dashes our rising Hope with certain Ill;
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That all is destin'd, which We fancy free.
That Pow'r superior then, which rules our Mind,
Is His Decree by Human Pray'r inclin'd.
Will He for Sacrifice our Sorrows ease?
And can our Tears reverse His firm Decrees?
Then let Religion aid, where Reason fails:
Throw loads of Incense in, to turn the Scales;
And let the silent Sanctuary show,
What from the babling Scholes We may not know,
How Man may shun, or bear his destin'd Part of Woe.
Is His Decree by Human Pray'r inclin'd.
Will He for Sacrifice our Sorrows ease?
And can our Tears reverse His firm Decrees?
Then let Religion aid, where Reason fails:
Throw loads of Incense in, to turn the Scales;
And let the silent Sanctuary show,
What from the babling Scholes We may not know,
How Man may shun, or bear his destin'd Part of Woe.
What shall amend, or what absolve our Fate?
Anxious We hover in a mediate State,
Betwixt Infinity and Nothing; Bounds,
Or boundless Terms, whose doubtful Sense confounds
Unequal Thought; whilst All We apprehend,
Is, that our Hopes must rise, our Sorrows end;
As our Creator deigns to be our Friend.
Anxious We hover in a mediate State,
Betwixt Infinity and Nothing; Bounds,
Or boundless Terms, whose doubtful Sense confounds
Unequal Thought; whilst All We apprehend,
Is, that our Hopes must rise, our Sorrows end;
As our Creator deigns to be our Friend.
I said;—and instant bad the Priests prepare
The ritual Sacrifice, and solemn Pray'r.
Select from vulgar Herds, with Garlands gay,
A hundred Bulls ascend the Sacred Way.
The artful Youth proceed to form the Choir;
They breath the Flute, or strike the vocal Wire.
The Maids in comely Order next advance;
They beat the Tymbrel, and instruct the Dance.
Follows the chosen Tribe from Levi sprung,
Chanting by just Return the Holy Song.
Along the Choir in Solemn State they past.
—The Anxious King came last.
The Sacred Hymn perform'd, my promis'd Vow
I paid; and bowing at the Altar low,
The ritual Sacrifice, and solemn Pray'r.
Select from vulgar Herds, with Garlands gay,
A hundred Bulls ascend the Sacred Way.
The artful Youth proceed to form the Choir;
They breath the Flute, or strike the vocal Wire.
The Maids in comely Order next advance;
They beat the Tymbrel, and instruct the Dance.
Follows the chosen Tribe from Levi sprung,
Chanting by just Return the Holy Song.
Along the Choir in Solemn State they past.
—The Anxious King came last.
The Sacred Hymn perform'd, my promis'd Vow
I paid; and bowing at the Altar low,
Father of Heav'n! I said, and Judge of Earth!
Whose Word call'd out this Universe to Birth;
By whose kind Pow'r and influencing Care
The various Creatures move, and live, and are;
But, ceasing once that Care; withdrawn that Pow'r;
They move (alas!) and live, and are no more:
Omni-scient Master, Omni-present King,
To Thee, to Thee, my last Distress I bring.
Whose Word call'd out this Universe to Birth;
By whose kind Pow'r and influencing Care
The various Creatures move, and live, and are;
But, ceasing once that Care; withdrawn that Pow'r;
They move (alas!) and live, and are no more:
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To Thee, to Thee, my last Distress I bring.
Thou, that can'st Still the Raging of the Seas,
Chain up the Winds, and bid the Tempests cease;
Redeem my ship-wreck'd Soul from raging Gusts
Of cruel Passion, and deceitful Lusts:
From Storms of Rage, and dang'rous Rocks of Pride,
Let Thy strong Hand this little Vessel guide
(It was Thy Hand that made it) thro' the Tide
Impetuous of this Life: let Thy Command
Direct my Course, and bring me safe to Land.
Chain up the Winds, and bid the Tempests cease;
Redeem my ship-wreck'd Soul from raging Gusts
Of cruel Passion, and deceitful Lusts:
From Storms of Rage, and dang'rous Rocks of Pride,
Let Thy strong Hand this little Vessel guide
(It was Thy Hand that made it) thro' the Tide
Impetuous of this Life: let Thy Command
Direct my Course, and bring me safe to Land.
If, while this weary'd Flesh draws fleeting Breath,
Not satisfy'd with Life, afraid of Death,
It hap'ly be Thy Will, that I should know
Glimpse of Delight, or Pause from anxious Woe;
From Now, from instant Now, great Sire, dispell
The Clouds that press my Soul; from Now reveal
A gracious Beam of Light; from Now inspire
My Tongue to sing, my Hand to touch the Lyre:
My open'd Thought to joyous Prospects raise;
And, for Thy Mercy, let me sing Thy Praise.
Or, if Thy Will ordains, I still shall wait
Some New Here-after, and a future State;
Permit me Strength, my Weight of Woe to bear;
And raise my Mind superior to my Care.
Let Me, howe'er unable to explain
The secret Lab'rynths of Thy Ways to Man,
With humble Zeal confess Thy awful Pow'r;
Still weeping Hope, and wond'ring still Adore.
So in my Conquest be Thy Might declar'd:
And, for Thy Justice, be Thy Name rever'd.
Not satisfy'd with Life, afraid of Death,
It hap'ly be Thy Will, that I should know
Glimpse of Delight, or Pause from anxious Woe;
From Now, from instant Now, great Sire, dispell
The Clouds that press my Soul; from Now reveal
A gracious Beam of Light; from Now inspire
My Tongue to sing, my Hand to touch the Lyre:
My open'd Thought to joyous Prospects raise;
And, for Thy Mercy, let me sing Thy Praise.
Or, if Thy Will ordains, I still shall wait
Some New Here-after, and a future State;
Permit me Strength, my Weight of Woe to bear;
And raise my Mind superior to my Care.
Let Me, howe'er unable to explain
The secret Lab'rynths of Thy Ways to Man,
With humble Zeal confess Thy awful Pow'r;
Still weeping Hope, and wond'ring still Adore.
So in my Conquest be Thy Might declar'd:
And, for Thy Justice, be Thy Name rever'd.
My Pray'r scarce ended, a stupendous Gloom
Darkens the Air; loud Thunder shakes the Dome:
To the beginning Miracle succeed
An awful Silence, and religious Dread.
Sudden breaks forth a more than common Day:
The sacred Wood, which on the Altar lay,
Untouch'd, unlighted glows—
Ambrosial Odor, such as never flows
From Arab's Gum, or the Sabaean Rose,
Does round the Air evolving Scents diffuse:
The holy Ground is wet with Heav'nly Dews:
Celestial Music (such Jessides' Lyre,
Such Miriam's Timbrel would in vain require)
Strikes to my Thought thro' my admiring Ear,
With Ecstasy too fine, and Pleasure hard to bear.
And lo! what sees my ravish'd Eye? what feels
My wond'ring Soul? an opening Cloud reveals
An Heav'nly Form embody'd and array'd
With Robes of Light. I heard: the Angel said:
Darkens the Air; loud Thunder shakes the Dome:
To the beginning Miracle succeed
An awful Silence, and religious Dread.
Sudden breaks forth a more than common Day:
The sacred Wood, which on the Altar lay,
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Ambrosial Odor, such as never flows
From Arab's Gum, or the Sabaean Rose,
Does round the Air evolving Scents diffuse:
The holy Ground is wet with Heav'nly Dews:
Celestial Music (such Jessides' Lyre,
Such Miriam's Timbrel would in vain require)
Strikes to my Thought thro' my admiring Ear,
With Ecstasy too fine, and Pleasure hard to bear.
And lo! what sees my ravish'd Eye? what feels
My wond'ring Soul? an opening Cloud reveals
An Heav'nly Form embody'd and array'd
With Robes of Light. I heard: the Angel said:
Cease, Man of Woman born, to hope Relief
From daily Trouble, and continu'd Grief.
Thy Hope of Joy deliver to the Wind:
Suppress thy Passions; and prepare thy Mind.
Free and familiar with Misfortune grow:
Be us'd to Sorrow, and inur'd to Woe.
By weak'ning Toil, and hoary Age o'ercome,
See thy Decrease; and hasten to thy Tomb.
Leave to thy Children Tumult, Strife, and War,
Portions of Toil, and Legacies of Care.
Send the Successive Ills thro' Ages down;
And let each weeping Father tell his Son,
That deeper struck, and more distinctly griev'd,
He must augment the Sorrows He receiv'd.
From daily Trouble, and continu'd Grief.
Thy Hope of Joy deliver to the Wind:
Suppress thy Passions; and prepare thy Mind.
Free and familiar with Misfortune grow:
Be us'd to Sorrow, and inur'd to Woe.
By weak'ning Toil, and hoary Age o'ercome,
See thy Decrease; and hasten to thy Tomb.
Leave to thy Children Tumult, Strife, and War,
Portions of Toil, and Legacies of Care.
Send the Successive Ills thro' Ages down;
And let each weeping Father tell his Son,
That deeper struck, and more distinctly griev'd,
He must augment the Sorrows He receiv'd.
The Child to whose Success thy Hope is bound,
E'er thou art scarce Interr'd, or he is Crown'd;
To Lust of Arbitrary Sway inclin'd,
(That cursed Poyson to the Prince's Mind!)
Shall from thy Dictates and his Duty rove,
And lose his great Defence, his People's Love.
Ill Counsell'd, Vanquish'd, Fugitive, Disgrac'd,
Shall mourn the Fame of Jacob's Strength effac'd.
Shall sigh, the King diminish'd, and the Crown
With lessen'd Rays descending to his Son.
Shall see the Wreaths, His Grandsire knew to reap
By active Toil, and Military Sweat,
Pining incline their sickly Leaves, and shed
Their falling Honors from His giddy Head.
By Arms, or Pray'r unable to asswage
Domestic Horror, and intestine Rage,
Shall from the Victor, and the Vanquish'd fear,
From Israel's Arrow, and from Judah's Spear:
Shall cast his weary'd Limbs on Jordan's Floud,
By Brother's Arms disturb'd, and stain'd with Kindred-Blood.
E'er thou art scarce Interr'd, or he is Crown'd;
To Lust of Arbitrary Sway inclin'd,
(That cursed Poyson to the Prince's Mind!)
Shall from thy Dictates and his Duty rove,
And lose his great Defence, his People's Love.
Ill Counsell'd, Vanquish'd, Fugitive, Disgrac'd,
Shall mourn the Fame of Jacob's Strength effac'd.
Shall sigh, the King diminish'd, and the Crown
With lessen'd Rays descending to his Son.
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By active Toil, and Military Sweat,
Pining incline their sickly Leaves, and shed
Their falling Honors from His giddy Head.
By Arms, or Pray'r unable to asswage
Domestic Horror, and intestine Rage,
Shall from the Victor, and the Vanquish'd fear,
From Israel's Arrow, and from Judah's Spear:
Shall cast his weary'd Limbs on Jordan's Floud,
By Brother's Arms disturb'd, and stain'd with Kindred-Blood.
Hence lab'ring Years shall weep their destin'd Race
Charg'd with ill Omens; sully'd with Disgrace.
Time by Necessity compell'd, shall go
Thro' Scenes of War, and Epocha's of Woe.
The Empire lessen'd in a parted Stream,
Shall lose it's Course—
Indulge thy Tears: the Heathen shall blaspheme:
Judah shall fall, oppress'd by Grief and Shame;
And Men shall from her Ruins know her Fame.
Charg'd with ill Omens; sully'd with Disgrace.
Time by Necessity compell'd, shall go
Thro' Scenes of War, and Epocha's of Woe.
The Empire lessen'd in a parted Stream,
Shall lose it's Course—
Indulge thy Tears: the Heathen shall blaspheme:
Judah shall fall, oppress'd by Grief and Shame;
And Men shall from her Ruins know her Fame.
New Ægypts yet, and second Bonds remain,
A harsher Pharaoh, and a heavyer Chain.
Again obedient to a dire Command,
Thy Captive Sons shall leave the promis'd Land.
Their Name more low, their Servitude more vile,
Shall, on Euphrates' Bank, renew the Grief of Nile.
A harsher Pharaoh, and a heavyer Chain.
Again obedient to a dire Command,
Thy Captive Sons shall leave the promis'd Land.
Their Name more low, their Servitude more vile,
Shall, on Euphrates' Bank, renew the Grief of Nile.
These pointed Spires that wound the ambient Sky
Inglorious Change! shall in Destruction lye
Low, levell'd with the Dust; their Heights unknown,
Or measur'd by their Ruin. Yonder Throne,
For lasting Glory built, design'd the Seat
Of Kings for ever blest, for ever great,
Remov'd by the Invader's barb'rous Hand,
Shall grace his Triumph in a foreign Land.
The Tyrant shall demand yon' sacred Load
Of Gold and Vessels set a-part to GOD,
Then by vile Hands to common Use debas'd;
Shall send them flowing round his drunken Feast,
With sacrilegious Taunt, and impious Jest.
Inglorious Change! shall in Destruction lye
Low, levell'd with the Dust; their Heights unknown,
Or measur'd by their Ruin. Yonder Throne,
For lasting Glory built, design'd the Seat
Of Kings for ever blest, for ever great,
Remov'd by the Invader's barb'rous Hand,
Shall grace his Triumph in a foreign Land.
The Tyrant shall demand yon' sacred Load
Of Gold and Vessels set a-part to GOD,
Then by vile Hands to common Use debas'd;
Shall send them flowing round his drunken Feast,
With sacrilegious Taunt, and impious Jest.
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Twice fourteen Ages shall their Way complete:
Empires by various Turns shall rise and set;
While Thy abandon'd Tribes shall only know
A diff'rent Master, and a Change of Woe:
With down-cast Eye-lids, and with Looks a-ghast,
Shall dread the Future, or bewail the Past.
Empires by various Turns shall rise and set;
While Thy abandon'd Tribes shall only know
A diff'rent Master, and a Change of Woe:
With down-cast Eye-lids, and with Looks a-ghast,
Shall dread the Future, or bewail the Past.
Afflicted Israel shall sit weeping down,
Fast by the Streams, where Babel's Waters run;
Their Harps upon the neighb'ring Willows hung,
Nor joyous Hymn encouraging their Tongue,
Nor chearful Dance their Feet; with Toil oppress'd,
Their weary'd Limbs aspiring but to Rest.
In the reflective Stream the sighing Bride,
Viewing her Charms impair'd, abash'd shall hide
Her pensive head; and in her languid Face
The Bridegroom shall fore-see his sickly Race:
While pond'rous Fetters vex their close Embrace.
With irksome Anguish then your Priests shall mourn
Their long-neglected Feasts despair'd Return,
And sad Oblivion of their solemn Days.
Thenceforth their Voices They shall only raise,
Louder to weep. By Day your frighted Seers
Shall call for Fountains to express their Tears;
And wish their Eyes were Flouds: by Night from Dreams
Of opening Gulphs, black Storms, and raging Flames,
Starting amaz'd, shall to the People show
Emblems of Heav'nly Wrath, and Mystic Types of Woe.
Fast by the Streams, where Babel's Waters run;
Their Harps upon the neighb'ring Willows hung,
Nor joyous Hymn encouraging their Tongue,
Nor chearful Dance their Feet; with Toil oppress'd,
Their weary'd Limbs aspiring but to Rest.
In the reflective Stream the sighing Bride,
Viewing her Charms impair'd, abash'd shall hide
Her pensive head; and in her languid Face
The Bridegroom shall fore-see his sickly Race:
While pond'rous Fetters vex their close Embrace.
With irksome Anguish then your Priests shall mourn
Their long-neglected Feasts despair'd Return,
And sad Oblivion of their solemn Days.
Thenceforth their Voices They shall only raise,
Louder to weep. By Day your frighted Seers
Shall call for Fountains to express their Tears;
And wish their Eyes were Flouds: by Night from Dreams
Of opening Gulphs, black Storms, and raging Flames,
Starting amaz'd, shall to the People show
Emblems of Heav'nly Wrath, and Mystic Types of Woe.
The Captives, as their Tyrant shall require,
That They should breath the Song, and touch the Lyre,
Shall say: can Jacob's servile Race rejoice,
Untun'd the Music, and disus'd the Voice?
What can We play? (They shall discourse) how sing
In foreign Lands, and to a Barb'rous King?
We and our Fathers from our Childhood bred
To watch the cruel Victor's Eye, to dread
The arbitrary Lash, to bend, to grieve;
(Out-cast of Mortal Race!) can We conceive
Image of ought delightful, soft, or gay?
Alas! when We have toyl'd the longsome Day;
The fullest Bliss our Hearts aspire to know,
Is but some Interval from active Woe;
In broken Rest, and startling Sleep to mourn;
'Till Morn, the Tyrant, and the Scourge return.
Bred up in Grief, can Pleasure be our Theme?
Our endless Anguish does not Nature claim?
Reason, and Sorrow are to Us the Same.
Alas! with wild Amazement We require,
If Idle Folly was not Pleasure's Sire:
Madness, We fancy, gave an Ill-tim'd Birth
To grinning Laughter, and to frantic Mirth.
That They should breath the Song, and touch the Lyre,
Shall say: can Jacob's servile Race rejoice,
Untun'd the Music, and disus'd the Voice?
What can We play? (They shall discourse) how sing
In foreign Lands, and to a Barb'rous King?
We and our Fathers from our Childhood bred
To watch the cruel Victor's Eye, to dread
The arbitrary Lash, to bend, to grieve;
(Out-cast of Mortal Race!) can We conceive
Image of ought delightful, soft, or gay?
Alas! when We have toyl'd the longsome Day;
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Is but some Interval from active Woe;
In broken Rest, and startling Sleep to mourn;
'Till Morn, the Tyrant, and the Scourge return.
Bred up in Grief, can Pleasure be our Theme?
Our endless Anguish does not Nature claim?
Reason, and Sorrow are to Us the Same.
Alas! with wild Amazement We require,
If Idle Folly was not Pleasure's Sire:
Madness, We fancy, gave an Ill-tim'd Birth
To grinning Laughter, and to frantic Mirth.
This is the Series of perpetual Woe,
Which Thou, alas! and Thine are born to know.
Illustrious Wretch, repine not, nor reply:
View not, what Heav'n ordains, with Reason's Eye;
Too bright the Object is: the Distance is too high.
The Man who would resolve the Work of Fate,
May limit Number, and make Crooked Strait:
Stop Thy Enquiry then; and curb Thy Sense;
Nor let Dust argue with Omnipotence.
'Tis GOD who must dispose, and Man sustain,
Born to endure, forbidden to complain.
Thy Sum of Life must His Decrees fulfill:
What derogates from His Command, is Ill;
And that alone is Good, which centers in His Will.
Which Thou, alas! and Thine are born to know.
Illustrious Wretch, repine not, nor reply:
View not, what Heav'n ordains, with Reason's Eye;
Too bright the Object is: the Distance is too high.
The Man who would resolve the Work of Fate,
May limit Number, and make Crooked Strait:
Stop Thy Enquiry then; and curb Thy Sense;
Nor let Dust argue with Omnipotence.
'Tis GOD who must dispose, and Man sustain,
Born to endure, forbidden to complain.
Thy Sum of Life must His Decrees fulfill:
What derogates from His Command, is Ill;
And that alone is Good, which centers in His Will.
Yet that thy Lab'ring Senses may not droop,
Lost to Delight, and destitute of Hope;
Remark what I, GOD's Messenger, aver
From Him, who neither can deceive, nor err.
The Land at length redeem'd, shall cease to mourn;
Shall from her sad Captivity return.
Sion shall raise her long-dejected Head;
And in her Courts the Law again be read.
Again the glorious Temple shall arise,
And with new Lustre pierce the neighb'ring Skies.
The promis'd Seat of Empire shall again
Cover the Mountain, and command the Plain,
And from Thy Race distinguish'd, One shall spring,
Greater in Act than Victor, more than King
In Dignity and Pow'r, sent down from Heav'n,
To succour Earth. To Him, to Him 'tis giv'n,
Passion, and Care, and Anguish to destroy.
Thro' Him soft Peace, and Plenitude of Joy
Perpetual o'er the World redeem'd shall flow.
No more may Man inquire, nor Angel know.
Lost to Delight, and destitute of Hope;
Remark what I, GOD's Messenger, aver
From Him, who neither can deceive, nor err.
The Land at length redeem'd, shall cease to mourn;
Shall from her sad Captivity return.
Sion shall raise her long-dejected Head;
And in her Courts the Law again be read.
Again the glorious Temple shall arise,
And with new Lustre pierce the neighb'ring Skies.
The promis'd Seat of Empire shall again
Cover the Mountain, and command the Plain,
And from Thy Race distinguish'd, One shall spring,
Greater in Act than Victor, more than King
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To succour Earth. To Him, to Him 'tis giv'n,
Passion, and Care, and Anguish to destroy.
Thro' Him soft Peace, and Plenitude of Joy
Perpetual o'er the World redeem'd shall flow.
No more may Man inquire, nor Angel know.
Now, Solomon, rememb'ring Who thou art,
Act thro' thy remnant Life the decent Part.
Go forth: Be strong: With Patience, and with Care
Perform, and Suffer: To Thy self severe,
Gracious to Others, Thy Desires suppress'd,
Diffus'd Thy Virtues, First of Men, be Best.
Thy Sum of Duty let Two Words contain;
O may they graven in thy Heart remain!
Be Humble, and be Just. The Angel said:
With upward Speed His agile Wings He spread;
Whilst on the holy Ground I prostrate lay,
By various Doubts impell'd, or to obey,
Or to object: at length (my mournful Look
Heav'n-ward erect) determin'd, thus I spoke:
Act thro' thy remnant Life the decent Part.
Go forth: Be strong: With Patience, and with Care
Perform, and Suffer: To Thy self severe,
Gracious to Others, Thy Desires suppress'd,
Diffus'd Thy Virtues, First of Men, be Best.
Thy Sum of Duty let Two Words contain;
O may they graven in thy Heart remain!
Be Humble, and be Just. The Angel said:
With upward Speed His agile Wings He spread;
Whilst on the holy Ground I prostrate lay,
By various Doubts impell'd, or to obey,
Or to object: at length (my mournful Look
Heav'n-ward erect) determin'd, thus I spoke:
Supreme, Allwise, Eternal Potentate!
Sole Author, Sole Disposer of our Fate!
Enthron'd in Light, and Immortality,
Whom no Man fully sees, and none can see!
Original of Beings! Pow'r Divine!
Since that I Live, and that I Think, is Thine;
Benign Creator, let Thy plastic Hand
Dispose it's own Effect. Let Thy Command
Restore, Great Father, Thy Instructed Son;
And in My Act may Thy great Will be done.
Sole Author, Sole Disposer of our Fate!
Enthron'd in Light, and Immortality,
Whom no Man fully sees, and none can see!
Original of Beings! Pow'r Divine!
Since that I Live, and that I Think, is Thine;
Benign Creator, let Thy plastic Hand
Dispose it's own Effect. Let Thy Command
Restore, Great Father, Thy Instructed Son;
And in My Act may Thy great Will be done.
| Matthew Prior. Poems on Several Occasions | |