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And blotted from the year ; nor fears to crave “ Are mists begotten ? Who their father knew?
Death, instant death ; impatient for the grave, From whom descend the pearly drops of dew?
That seat of peace, that mansion of repose, To bind the stream by night, what hand can boast,
Where rest and mortals are no longer foes; Or whiten morning with the boary frost ?
Where counsellors are hush'd, and mighty kings Whose powerful breath, from northern regions blown,
(Oh happy turn !) no more are wretched things. Touches the sea, and turns it into stone :

His words were daring, and displeas'd his friends ; | A sudden desert spreads o'er realms defac'd,
His conduct they reprove, and he defends ; And lays one half of the creation waste ?
And now they kindled into warm debate,

“ Thou know'st me not ; thy blindness canrc And sentiments oppos'd with equal heat ;

How vast a distance parts thy God from thee. Fix'd in opinion, both refuse to yield,

Canst thou in whirluinds mount aloft? Canst thoa And summon all their reason to the field :

In clouds and darkness wrap thy aweful brow? So high at length their arguments were wrought, And, when day triumphs in meridian light, They reach'd the last extent of human thought : Put forth thy hand, and shade the world with nigbt? A pause ensued

· When, lo! Heaven interpos'd, “ Who launch'd the clouds in air, and bid them And awefully the long contention clos’d. Full o'er their heads, with terrible surprise, Suspended seas aloft, from pole to pole? A sudden whirlwind blacken'd all the skies: Who can refresh the burning sandy plain, (They saw, and trembled !) from the darkness broke And quench the summer with a waste of rain? A dreadful voice, and thus th' Almighty spoke : Who, in rough deserts far from human toil,

“ Who gives his tongue a loose so bold and vain, Made rocks bring forth, and desolation smile? Censures my conduct, and reproves my reign; There blooms the rose, where human face ne'er shona, Lifts up his thought against me from the dust, And spreads its beauties to the Sun alone. And tells the World's Creator what is just ?

“ To check the shower, who lifts his hand on high, Of late so brave, now lift a dauntless eye,

And shuts the sluices of th' exhausted sky, Face my demand, and give it a reply:

When Earth no longer mourns her gaping seins, Where didst thou dweil at Nature's early birth? Her naked mountains, and her russet plains; Who laid foundations for the spacious Earth? But, new in life, a cheerful prospect yields Who on its surface did extend the line,

Of shining rivers, and of verdant fields; Its form determine, and its bulk confine?

When groves and forests lavish all their bloom, Who fix'd the corner-stone? What hand, declare, And Earth and Heaven are fill’d with rich perfume? Hung it on nought, and fasten’d it on air ;

“ Hast thou e'er scal'd my wintry skies, and sen When the bright morning stars in concert sung, Of hail and snows my northern magazine ? When Heaven's high arch with loud hosannahs 1 These the dread treasures of mine anger are, rung,

My funds of vengeance for the day of war, When shouting sons of God the triumph crown'd, When clouds rain death, and storms at my conAnd the wide concave thunder'd with the sound?

mand Earth's numerous kingdoms, hast thou view'd them Rage through the world, or waste a guilty land. all?

“ Who taught the rapid winds to fly so fast, And can thy span of knowledge grasp the ball ? Or shakes the centre with his eastern blast ? Who heav'd the mountain, which sublimely stands, Who from the skies can a whole deluge pour? And casts its shadow into distant lands?

Who strikes through Nature with the solemn roar “ Who, stretching forth his sceptre o'er the deep, Of dreadful thunder, points it where to fall, Can that wide world in due subjection keep ? And in fierce lightning wraps the flying ball ? I broke the globe, I scoop'd its hollow side, Not he who trembles at the darted fires, And did a bason for the floods provide;

Falls at the sound, and in the flash expires. I chain'd them with my word ; the boiling sea, " Who drew the comet out to such a size, Work'd up in tempests, hears my great decree; And pour'd his flaming train o'er half the skies? • Thus far, thy floating tide shall be convey'd; Did thy resentment hang him out ? Does he And here, O main, be thy proud billows stay'd.' Glare on the nation, and denounce, from thee?

“ Hast thou explor’d the secrets of the deep, “ Who on low Earth can moderate the rein, Where, shut from use, unnumber'd treasures sleep? That guides the stars along th' ethereal plain? Where, down a thousand fathoms from the day, Appoint their seasons, and direct their course, Springs the great fountain, mother of the sea? Their lustre brighten, and supply their force ? Those gloomy paths did thy bold foot e'er tread, Canst thou the skies' benevolence restrain, Whole worlds of waters rolling o'er thy head ? And cause the Pleiades to shine in vain?

“ Hath the cleft centre open'd wide to thee? Or, when Orion sparkles from his sphere, Death's inmost chambers didst thou ever see? Thaw the cold season, and unbind the year? E'er knock at his tremendous gate, and wade Bid Mazzaroth his destin'd station know, To the black portal through th' incumbent shade? And teach the bright Arcturus where to glow? Deep are those shades; but shades still deeper bide Mine is the night, with all her stars ; I pour My counsels from the ken of human pride. Myriads, and myriads I reserve in store. {born, “ Where dwells the light ? In what refulgent “ Dost thou pronounce where day-light shall be dome?

And draw the purple curtain of the morn; And where has darkness made her disma, home? Awake the Sun, and bid him come away, Thou know'st, no doubt, since thy large heart is And glad thy world with his obsequious ray? fraught

Hast thou, enthron’d in flaming glory, driven With ripen'd wisdom, through long ages brought; Triumphant round the spacious ring of Heaven? Since Nature was call’d forth when thou wast by, That pomp of light, what hand so far displays, And into being rose beneath thine eye!

That distant Earth lies basking in the blaze?

PARAPHRASE ON PART OF THE BOOK OF JOB. 535 " Who did the soul with her rich powers invest, Did thy command her yellow pinion lift And light up reason in the human breast ? So high in air, and set her on the clift, To shine, with fresh increase of lustre bright, Where far above thy world she dwells alone, When stars and Sun are set in endless night? And proudly makes the strength of rocks her own; To these my various questions make reply. Thence wide o'er Nature takes her dread survey, Th’ Almighty spoke ; and, speaking, shook the sky. | And with a glance predestinates her prey ?

What then, Chaldæan sire, was thy surprise! She feasts her young with blood ; and, hovering o'er Thus thou, with trembling heart and down-cast | Th' unslaughter'd host, enjoys the promis'd gore. eyes:

“ Know'st thou how many moons, by me assign'd, “ Once and again, which I in groans deplore, Roll o'er the mountain goat, and forest hind, My tongue has err'd; but shall presume no more. While pregnant they a mother's load sustain ? My voice is in eternal silence bound,

They bend in anguish, and cast forth their pain. And all my soul falls prostrate to the ground.” Hale are their young, from human frailties freed;

He ceas'd: when, lo, again th' Almighty spoke; Walk unsustain'd, and unassisted feed; The same dread voice from the black whirlwind They live at once ; forsake the dam's warm side ; broke.

Take the wide world, with Nature for their guide ; * Can that arm measure with an arm divine ? Bound o'er the lawn, or seek the distant glade ; And canst thou thunder with a voice like mine? And find a home in each delightful shade. [me, Or in the hollow of thy hand contain

“ Will the tall reem, which knows no Lord but
The bulk of waters, the wide-spreading main, Low at the crib, and ask an alms of thee?
When, mad with tempests, all the billows rise Submit his unworn shoulder to the yoke,
In all their rage, and dash the distant skies? Break the stiff clod, and o'er thy furrow smoke?

“ Come forth, in beauty's excellence array'd ; Since great his strength, go trust him, void of care;
And be the grandeur of thy power display'd ; Lay on his neck the toil of all the year ;
Put on omnipotence, and, frowning, make Bid him bring home the seasons to thy doors,
The spacious round of the creation shake;

And cast his load among thy gather'd stores.
Dispatch thy vengeance, bid it overthrow

“ Didst thou from service the wild ass discharge, Triumphant vice, lay lofty tyrants low,

And break his bonds, and bid him live at large, And crumble them to dust. When this is done, Through the wide waste, his ample mansion, roam, I grant thy safety lodg'd in thee alone;

And lose himself in his unbounded home? Of thee thou art, and mayst undaunted stand By Nature's hand magnificently fed, Behind the buckler of thine own right-hand. His meal is on the range of mountains spread;

“ Fond man! the vision of a moment made! As in pure air aloft he bounds along, Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade! He sees in distant smoke the city throng; What worlds hast thou produc'd, what creatures Conscious of freedom, scorns the smother'd train, fram’d;

The threatening driver, and the servile rein. What insects cherish'd, that thy God is blam'd ? “ Survey the warlike horse! didst thou invest When pain'd with hunger, the wild raven's brood With thunder his robust distended chest? Loud calls on God, importunate for food :

No sense of fear his dauntless soul allays; Who hears their cry, who grants their hoarse request, 'Tis dreadful to behold his nostrils blaze ; And stills the clamour of the craving nest?

To paw the vale he proudly takes delight, " Who in the stupid ostrich has subdued And triumplis in the fullness of his might; A parent's care, and fond inquietude?

High rais’d he snuti's the battle from afar, While far she flies, her scatter'd eggs are found, And burns to plunge amid the raging war ; Without an owner, on the sandy ground ;

And mocks at death, and throws his foam around, Cast out on fortune, they at mercy lie,

And in a storm of fury shakes the ground. And borrow life from an indulgent sky:

How does his firm, his rising heart advance Adopted by the Sun, in blaze of day,

Full on the brandish'd sword, and shaken lance : They ripen under his prolific ray.

While his fix'd eye-balls meet the dazzling shield, Unmindful she, that some unhappy tread,

Gaze, and return the lightning of the field ! May crush her young in their neglected bed. He sinks the sense of pain in generous pride, What time she skims along the field with speed, Nor feels the shaft that trembles in his side; She scorns the rider, and pursuing steed.

But neighs to the shrill trumpet's dreadful blast “ How rich the peacock ! what bright glories run Till death; and when he groans, he groans his last. From plume to plume, and vary in the Sun! “ But, fiercer still, the lordly lion stalks, He proudly spreads them to the golden ray, Grimly majestic in liis lonely walks ; Gives all his colours, and ador us the day;

When round be glares, all living creatures fly; With conscious state the spacious round displays,

He clears the desert with his rolling eye.
And slowly moves amid the waving blaze.

Say, mortal, does he rouse at thy command,
" Who taught the hawk to find, in seasons wise, And roar to thee, and live upon thy hand ?
Perpetual summer, and a change of skies? Dost thou for him in forests bend thy bow,
When clouds deform the year, she mounts the wind, And to his gloomy den the morsel throw,
Shoots to the south, nor fears the storm behind ; Where bent on death lie hid his tawny brood,
The Sun returning, she returns again,

And, couch'd in dreadful ambush, pant for blood; Lives in his beams, and leaves ill days to men. Or, stretch'd on broken limbs, consume the day, “ Though strong the hawk, though practis'd well in darkness wrapt, and slumber o'er their prey ? to fly,

By the pale Moon they take their destin'd round, An cagle drops her in a lower sky;

And lash their sides, and furious tear the ground. An cagle, when, deserting human siglit,

Now shrieks and dying groans the desert fill; She seeks the Sun in her unwearied light : They rage, they rend; their ravenous jaws distil

With crimson foam; and, when the banquet 's o'er, His hulk is charg'd with such a furious soul,
They stride away, and paint their steps with gore; That clouds of smoke from his spread nostrils roll,
In flight alone the shepherd puts his trust,

As from a furnace; and, when rous'd his ire, And shudders at the talon in the dust.

Fate issues from his jaws in streams of fire. “ Mild is my behemoth, though large his frame; The rage of tempests, and the roar of seas, Smooth is his temper, and represt his flame, Thy terrour, this thy great superior please ; While unprovok'd. This native of the flood Strength on his ample shoulder sits in state; Lifts his broad foot, and puts ashore for food ; His well-join'd limbs are dreadfully complete; Earth sinks beneath him, as he moves along

His flakes of solid flesh are slow to part; To seek the herbs, and mingle with the throng. As steel his nerves; as adamant his heart. See with what strength his harden'd loins are bound, “ When, late awak'd, he rears him from the floods, All over proof and sinut against a wound.

And, stretching forth his stature to the clouds, How like a mountain cedar moves his tail ! Writhes in the Sun aloft his scaly height, Nor can his complicated sinews fail.

And strikes the distant hills with transient light, Built high and wide, his solid bones surpass

Far round are fatal damps of terrour spread, The bars of steel; his ribs are ribs of brass; The mighty fear, nor blush to own their dread. His port majestic and his armed jaw

“ Large is his front; and, when his burnish'd Give the wide forest, and the mountain, law.

eyes The mountains feed him ; there the beasts admire Lift their broad lids, the morning seems to rise. The mighty stranger, and in dread retire;

“ In vain may death in various shapes invade, At length his greatness nearer they survey,

The swift-wing'd arrow, the descending blade; Graze in his shadow, and his eye obey.

His naked breast their impotence defies; The fens and marshes are his cool retreat,

The dart rebounds, the brittle falchion flies. His noontide shelter from the burning heat ; Shut in himself, the war without he hears, Their sedgy bosoms his wide couch are made,

Safe in the tempest of their rattling spears; And groves of willows give him all their shade. The cumber'd strand their wasted volleys struk; “ His eye drinks Jordan up, when fir’d with His sport, the rage and labour of the foe. drought

“ His pastimes like a cauldron boil the flood, He trusts to turn its current down his throat; And blacken ocean with the rising mud; In lessen'd waves it creeps along the plain :

The billows feel him, as he works his way; He sinks a river, and he thirsts again.

His hoary footsteps shine along the sea; “ Go to the Nile, and, from its fruitful side, The foam high-wrought with white divides the green, Cast forth thy line into the swelling tide :

And distant sailors point where Death has been. With slender hair leviathan command,

“ His like Earth bears not on her spacious face; And stretch his vastness on the loaded strand. Alone in Nature stands his dauntless race, Will he become thy servant ? Will he own For utter ignorance of fear renown'd, Thy lordly nod, and tremble at thy frown?

In wrath he rolls his baleful eye around ; Or with his sport amuse thy leisure day,

Makes every swoln, disdainful heart subside, And, bound in silk, with thy soft maidens play? And holds dominion o'er the sons of pride.”

“Shall pompous banquets swell with such a prize? Then the Chaldæan eas'd his labouring breast, And the bowl journey round his ample size?

With full conviction of his crime opprest. Or the debating merchants share the prey,

“ Thou canst accomplish all things, Lord of And various limbs to various marts convey ?

Through his firm skull what steel its way can win? And every thought is naked to thy sight.
What forceful engine can subdue his skin? But, oh! thy ways are wonderful, and lie
Fly far, and live; tempt not his matchless might: Beyond the deepest reach of mortal eye.
The bravest shrink to cowards in his sight;

Oft have I heard of thine almighty power;
The rashest dare not rouse him up: Who then But never saw thee till this dreadful hour.
Shall turn on me, among the sons of men ? O'erwhelm'd with shame, the Lord of Life I see,

“ Am I a debtor ? Hast thou ever heard Abhor myself, and give my soul to thee. Whence come the gifts that are on me conferr'd ? Nor shall my weakness tempt thine anger more: My lavish fruit a thousand valleys fills,

Man is not made to question, but adore."
And mine the herds that graze a thousand hills :
Earth, sea, and air, all Nature is my own;
And stars and Sun are dust beneath my throne.
And dar'st thou with the World's great Father vie,
Thou, who dost tremble at my creature's eye ?

“ At full my large leviathan shall rise,
Boast all his strength, and spread his wondrous size.
Who, great in arms, e'er stripp'd his shining mail,
Or crown'd his triumph with a single scale?
Whose heart sustains him to draw near ? Behold,
Destruction yawns; his spacious jaws unfold,
And marshall'd round the wide expanse, disclose
Teeth edg'd with death, and crowding rows on rows:
What hideous fangs on either side arise !
And what a deep abyss between them lies!
Mete with thy lance, and with thy plummet sound,
The one how long, the other how profound.





This double night, transmit one pitying ray,

To lighten, and to cheer. O lead my mind,
(A mind that fain would wander from its woe,)

Lead it through various scenes of life and death ;

And from each scene, the noblest truths inspire.
Nor less inspire my conduct, than my song:

| Teach my best reason, reason; my best will As the occasion of this poem was real, not fictitious; Wisdom to wed, and pay her long arrear :

Teach rectitude; and fix my firm resolve so the method pursued in it was rather imposed, by what spontaneously arose in the author's mind Nor let the phial of thy vengeance, pour'd on that occasion, than meditated or designed ; which On this devoted head, be pour’d in vain.

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time will appear very probable from the nature of it. For it differs from the common mode of poetry, Is wise in man.

But from its loss. To give it then a tongue, which is, from long narrations to draw short mo

As if an angel spoke, rals. Here, on the contrary, the narrative is I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, short, and the morality arising from it makes the It is the knell of my departed hours : bulk of the poem.

The reason of it is, that the Where are they? With the years beyond the flood. facts mentioned did naturally pour these moral It is the signal that demands dispatch ; reflections on the thought of the writer.

How much is to be done? My hopes and fears

Start up alarm’d, and o'er life's narrow verge

Look down — On what ? a fathomless abyss !
A dread eternity ! how surely mine!

And can eternity belong to me,
LIFE, DEATH, AND IMMORTALITY. Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour ?

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, TO THE RIGHT HON. ARTHUR ONSLOW, SPEAKER Or

How complicate, how wonderful, is man!

How passing wonder He, who made him such! Tir's Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! Who centered in our make such strange extremes ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays

From different natures marvelously mixt, Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes; Connection exquisite of distant worlds ! Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe,

Distinguish'd link in being's endless chain !
And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.

Midway from nothing to the Deity!
From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose, A beam ethereal, sully'd and absorpt!
I wake: How happy they, who wake no more ! Though sully'd and dishonour'd, still divine !
Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave. Dim miniature of greatness absolute !
I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams

An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding thought, Helpless immortal ! insect infinite !
From wave to wave of fancied misery,

A worm! a god! - I tremble at myself, At random drove, her helm of reason lost.

And in myself am lost! at home a stranger, Though now restor’d, 't is only change of pain, Thought wanders up and down, surpris'd, aghast, (A bitter change!) severer for severe.

And wondering at her own : How Reason reels ! The Day too short for my distress; and Night,

O what a miracle to man is man, E'en in the zenith of her dark domain,

Triumphantly distress'd! what joy, what dread ! Is sunshine to the colour of my fate.

Alternately transported, and alarm'd ! Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne, What can preserve my life? or what destroy ? In rayless majesty, now stretches forth

An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. Legions of angels can't confine me there. Silence, how dead! and darkness, how profound ! 'T is past conjecture; all things rise in proof: Nor eve, nor listening ear, an object finds; While o'er my limbs sleep's soft dominion spread, Creation sleeps. "T is, as the general pulse What though my soul fantastic measures trod Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause; O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom An aweful pause! prophetic of her end.

Of pathless woods; or, down the craggy steep And let her prophecy be soon fulfillid;

Huri'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool; Fate ! drop the curtain; I can lose no more. Or scal'd the cliff; or danc'd on hollow winds,

Silence and Darkness ! solemn sisters ! twins With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain ? From ancient Night, who nurse the tender thought Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks her nature To reason, and on reason build resolve,

Of subtler essence than the trodden clod ; (That column of true majesty in man,)

Active, aërial, towering, unconfin'd, Assist me: I will thank you in the grave;

Unfetter'd with her gross companion's fall. The grave, your kingdom: there this frame shall fall E'en silent night proclaims my soul immortal : A victim sacred to your dreary shrine.

E'en silent night proclaims eternal day. But what are ye?

For human weal, Heaven husbands all events; Thou, who didst put to flight

Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain. Primeval Silence, when the morning stars,

Why then their loss deplore, that are not lost? Exulting, shouted o'er the rising ball!

Why wanders wretched thought their tombs around, O thou, whose word from solid darkness struck In infidel distress? Are angels there? That spark, the Sun ; strike wisdom from my soul; Slumbers, rak'd up in dust, ethereal fire ? My soul, which flies to thee, her trust, her treasure, They live ! they greatly live a life on Earth As misers to their gold, while others rest.

Unkindled, unconceiv'd; and from an eye Through this opaque of Nature, and of soul, Of tenderness let heavenly pity fall

On me, more justly number'd with the dead. Could you, so rich in rapture, fear an end,
This is the desert, this the solitude :

That ghastly thought would drink up all your joy, How populous, how vital, is the grave!

And quite unparadise the realms of light. This is creation's melancholy vault,

Safe are you lodg'd above these rolling spheres; The vale funereal, the sad cypress gloom;

The baleful influence of whose giddy dance The land of apparitions, empty shades !

Sheds sad vicissitude on all beneath. All, all on Earth, is shadow, all beyond

Here teems with revolutions every bour;
Is substance ; the reverse is folly's creed :

And rarely for the better; or the best,
How solid all, where change shall be no more! More mortal than the common births of fate.
This is the bud of being, the dim dawn,

Each moment has its sickle, emulous
The twilight of our day, the vestibule:

Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Life's theatre as yet is shut, and Death,

Strikes empires from the root ; each moment plays Strong Death, alone can heave the massy bar, His little weapon in the narrower sphere This gross impediment of clay remove,

Of sweet domestic comfort, and cuts down And make us embryos of existence free.

The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss. From real life, but little more remote

Bliss ! sublunary bliss ! - proud words, and vain! Is he, not yet a candidate for light,

Implicit treason to divine decree! The future embryo, slumbering in his sire.

A bold invasion of the rights of Heaven! Embryos we must be, till we burst the shell, I clasp'd the phantoms, and I found them air. Yon ambient azure shell, and spring to life,

O had I weigh'd it ere my fond embrace ! The life of gods, O transport ! and of man. What darts of agony had miss'd my heart !

Yet man, fool man! here buries all his thoughts; Death! great proprietor of all! 't is thine Inters celestial hopes without one sigh.

To tread out empire, and to quench the stars Prisoner of Earth, and pent beneath the Moon, The Sun himself by thy permission shines ; Here pinions all his wishes ; wing'd by Heaven And, one day, thou shalt pluck him from his sphere To fly at infinite; and reach it there,

Amid such mighty plunder, why exhaust
Where seraphs gather immortality,

Thy partial quiver on a mark so m'an?
In life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God. Why thy peculiar rancour wreak'd on me?
What golden joys ambrosial clustering glow, Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ?
In his full beam, and ripen for the just,

Thy shaft tiew thrice; and trice my peace was slain
Where momentary ages are no more! (expire! And thrice, cre thrice yon Moon had hill'd ber bori.
Where Time, and Pain, and Chance, and Death o Cynthia ! why so pale? Dost thou lament
And is it in the flight of threescore years,

Thy wretched neighbour ? Grieve to see thy wiwe To push eternity from human thought,

Of ceaseless change outwhirl'd in human life? And smother souls immortal in the dust?

How wanes my borrow'd bliss! from fortune's smile, A soul immortal, spending all her fires,

Precarious courtesy ! not virtue's sure, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Self-given, solar ray of sound delight. Thrown into tumult, raptur'd or alarm'd,

In every vary'd posture, place, and hour, At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, How widow'd every thought of every joy ! Resembles ocean into tempest wrought,

Thought, busy thought! too busy for my peace! To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.

Through the dark postern of time long elaps'd,
Where falls this censure? It o'erwhelms myself ; Led softly, by the stillness of the night,
How was my heart incrusted by the world! Led, like a murderer, (and such it proves!)
O how self-fetter'd was my grovelling soul! Strays (wretched rover!) o'er the pleasing pas! ;
How, like a worin, was I wrapt round and round In quest of wretchedness perversely strays;
In silken thought, which reptile Fancy spun, And finds all desert now; and meets the ghosts
Till darken'd Reason lay quite clouded o'er Of my departed joys; a numerous train!
With soft conceit of endless comfort here,

I rue the riches of my former fate;
Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies ! Sweet comfort's blasted clusters I lament;

Night-visions may befriend (as sung above): I tremble at the blessings once so dear;
Our waking dreams are fatal. How I dreamt And every pleasure pains me to the heart,
Of things impossible! (Could sleep do more?) Yet why complain? or why complain for one?
Of joys perpetual in perpetual change!

Hangs out the Sun his lustre but for me, Of stable pleasures on the tossing wave!

The singli man? Are angels all beside ? Eternal sunshine in the storms of life!

I mourn for millions : 't is the common lot; How richly were my noon-tide trances hung In this shape, or in that, has Fate entailid With gorgeous tapestries of pictur'd joys !

The mother's throes on all of woman born, Joy behind joy, in endless perspective!

Not more the children, than sure heirs, of pain. Till at Death's toll, whose restless iron tongue War, Famine, Pest, Volcano, Storm, and Fire, Calls daily for his millions at a meal,

Intestine broils, Oppression, with her heart
Starting I woke, and found myself undone. Wrapt up in triple brass, besiege mankind.
Where now my phrenzy's pompous furniture ? God's image disinherited of day,
The cobweb'd cottage, with its ragged wall

Here, plung'd in mines, forgets a Sun was made. Of mouldering mud, is royalty to me!

\ There, beings deathless as their haughty lord, The spider's most attenuated thread

Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life; Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie

And plow the winter's wave, and reap despair. On earthly bliss ! it breaks at every breeze.

Some, for hard masters, broken under arins, O ye blest scenes of permanent delight !

In battle lopt away, with half their limbs, Full, above measure ! lasting, beyond bound ! Beg bitter bread through realms their valour sar'd, A perpetuity of bliss is bliss.

If so the tyrant, or his minion, doom.

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