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Yet still they breathe destruction, still go on Into his Maker's presence, throwing back
With insolent disdain his choicest gift?
By penitential tears and deep contrition, Frooi universal ruin. Blast the design
The scarlet of thy crimes. So shalt thou find Great God of Hosts, nor let thy creatures fall Rest to thy soul; so unappallid shall meet Unpitied victims at Ambition's sharine! Death when he comes, not wantonly invite
Yet say, should Tyrants learn at last to feel, His lingøring stroke. Be it thy sole concern And the loud din of battle cease to bray; With innocence to live, with patience wait Should dove-eyed Peace o'er all the earth extend | Th'appointed hour; too soon that hour will come, Hler olive-branch, and give the world repose, Tho' Nature run her course. But Nature's God, Would Death be foild? Would health, and If need require, by thousand various ways, strength, and youth
Without thy aid can shorten that short span, Defy his pow'r? Has he no arts in store, And quench the lampoflife. ( when he comes, No other shafts save those of War? Alas! | Rous'd by the cry of wickedness extreme, Ex'n in the sinile of Peace, thatsmile which sheds To heav'n ascending from some guilty land, A heav'nly sunshine o'er the soul, there basks Now ripe for vengeance; when he comes array'd That serpent Luxury. War its thousand slays; In all the terrors of Almighty wrath, Peace its ten thousands. In tli embattled plain, Forth from his bosom plucks his ling'ring arm, Tho' Death exults, and claps his raven wings, And on the miscreants pours destruction down; Yet reigns he not er'n there so absolute, Who can abide his coming? Who can bear So merciless, as in yon frantic scenes
His whole displeasure? In no coinmon form Of midnight revel and tumultuous mirth, Death then appears, but starting into size Where in th' intoxicatiog draught concealel, Enormous, measures with gigantic stride Or couch'd beneath the glance of lawless love, Th'astonishd Earth, and from his looks throws Hesuarai besimpleyouth, whonoughtsuspecting, Unutterable horror and dismay. [round, Means to be blest --but finds himself undone. All Nature lends her aid, each Element
Downthesmoothstreamof lifethestriplingdarts, Arms in his cause. Ope fly the doors of Heav'ns Gay as the morn; bright glows the vernal sky, The fountains of the deep their barriers break, Hopeswells his sails,and passion steers his course, Abore, below, the rival torrents pour, Safe glides his little bark along the shore And drown Creation : or in floods of fire Where virtue takes her stand; but if too far Descends a livid cataract, and consumes (peace, He launches forth beyond discretion's mark, An impious race. Sometimes, when all seems Sodden the tempest scowls, the surges roar, Wakesthegrimwhirlwind, anduvithrudecmbrace Blot his fair day, and plunge hiin in the deep, Sweeps nations to their grave, or in the deep O sad but sure mischance! () happier far Wlielins the proud wooden world; full many 2 'To lie like gallant Lowe 'midst Indian wilds Floats on his wat’ry bier, or lies unwept (youth A breathless corse, cut off by savage hands On some sad desari shore! At dead of night, In earliest prime, a generous sacrifice
In sulien silence stalks forth Pestilence : To freedom's holy cause; than so to fall, Contagion close behind taints all her steps Torn immature from life's meridian joys, With pois'nous dew; no siniting hand is seen, A prey to Vice, Iniemp'rance, and Disease. No sound is heird, but soon her secret path
Yet die er'n thus, thus rather perish still, is mark'd with desolation; heaps on heaps Ye sons of Pleasure, by th’Almighty strick'n, Promiscuons drop. No friend, no refuge, near; Than ever dare (though oft, alas! védare) All, all, is false and treacherous around; To lift against yourselves the murd'rous steel, All thatthey touch, or taste, or breathe, is Death. To wrest from God's own hand the sword of Butah! what means that ruinous roar: why fail Justice,
These tott'ring feet? Earth to its centre feels And be your own avengers! Ho!d, rash Man, The Godhead's power, and trembling at his touch Though with anticipating speed thou 'strang'd Through all ils pillars, and in ev'ry pore, Through every region of delight, nor left Hurls to the ground, with one convulsive heave, One joy to gild the evening of thy days ; | Precipitating domes, and towns, and tow'rs, Though life scem one uncomfortable void, | The work of ages. Crush'd beneath the weight Guilt at thy heels, before thy fice despair; Of general devasution, millions find Yet gay this scene, and light this load of woe, One common grave; not ev'n a widow left Compar'd with thy hereafter. Think, () think, To wail her sons: the house, that should protect, And, ere theu plunge into the vast abyss, En:ombs his master; and the faithless plain, Pause on the verge a while: look down and see if there he flies for help, with sudden yawn : The future inansion. Why that start of horror? Starts from beneath him. Shield me, gracious From thy slack hand why drops th'uplifted steel?! Heav'n, Didst thou not think such vengeance must await O snatch me from destruction! If this Globe, The wretch, that with his crimes all fresh about This solid Globe, which thine own hand hath Rushes irreverent, unprepard, uncallid, [him So firm and sure, if this my steps betray; (made
If myown mother Earth, from whence Isprung, Athwart the gloom profound! The sickly : Rise up with rage unnatural to devour
By glimm'ring thro'ihy low-brow'dmistyr Her wretched on:pring, whither shall I fly? Furr'd round with mouldydamps, and ropy s. Where look for succour? Where, but up to thee, Lets tall a supernumerary horror, Almighty Father? Save, O save, thy suppliant And only serves to make thy night more irks From horrors such as these! At thy good time Well do I know thee by thy trusty yew, Letdeath approach; I reck not-letnim butcome Cheerless, unsocial plant! That loves to du In genuine form, not with thy venycance armid, Midst sculls and coflins, epitaphs and won Too much for man to bear. O rather lend Where light-heel'd ghosts and visionary shad. Thy kindly aid to mitigate liis stroke;
Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports And at that hour when allaghast I stand
Einbodied thick, perform their mystic roun (A trembling candidate for thy compassion) No other merriment, dull tree ! is thine. On this world's brink, and look into the next; See yonder hallow'd fane! the pious work When my soul, starting from the dark unknown, Of names once fam'd, now dubious or forgot Casts back a wishful look, and fondly clings And buried'midst thewreckofthings whichwer To her frail prop, unwilling to be wrench'd There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead. From this fair scene, from all her custom'd joys, The wind is up: hark! how it howls! Methin And all the lovely relatives of life;
Till now, I never heard a sound so dreiry: [bir Then shed thy comforts o'er me, then put on Doors creak, and windows clap, and night's fou The gentlest of thy looks. Let no dark crimes, Rook'd in the spire screams loud; the gloomyaisle In all their hideous forms then starting up, Black plaster'd, and hung round with shreds o Plant themselves round my couch in grim array, 'scutchicons, And stab my bleeding heart with two-edy'd And tatter'd coats of arms, send back the sound torture,
Laden with heavier airs, from the low vaults, Sense of past guilt, and dread of future woc. The mansions of the dead. Rous'd from their Far be the ghastly crew! And in their stead In grim array the grisly spectres rise, [slumbers, Let cheerful Memory from her purest cells Grin horrible, and obstinately sullen Lead forth a goodly train of Virtues fair, | Pass and repass, hush'd as the foot of night. Cherish'd in earliest youth, now paying back Again! thescreech-owlshrieks: ungracioussound! With tenfold usury the pious care,
I'll hear no more; it makes one's blood run chill! And pouring o'er my wounds the heav'nly balm Quite round the pile, a row of rev'rend elms, Of conscious innocence. But chiefly, Thou, Coæval near with that, all ragged shew, (down Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from Heav'n Long-lash'd by the rude winds: some rift half To bleed for man, to teach him how to live, Their branchless trunks; others so thin a-top, And, oh! still harder lesson! how to die; That scarce two crows could lodge in the same Disdain not Thou to smooth the restless bed
(pen'd here: Of Sickness and of Pain. Forgive the tear Strange things, the neighbour's say, hare hapThat feeble Nature drops, calm all her fears, | Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs; Wake all her hopes, and animate her faith, Dead men have come again, and walk'd abont; Till my rapt soul, anticipating Heav'n, And the great bell has toll'd, unrung, untouchd. Bursts from the thraldom of incumb'ring clay, Such tales their cheer, at wake or gossipping. And on the wing of Ecstasy upborne,
When it draws near to witching time of night. Springs into Liberty, and Light, and Life. 1 Oft in the lone church-yard at night I've seen,
| By gliimpse of moon-shine, cheq'ring thro' the $39. The Grave. Blair, “ The house appointed for all living."
The school-boy, with his satchel in his hand,
JOB. Whistling aloud to bear his courage un. Whilst some affect the sun, and some the And lightly tripping o'er the long Hat stones shade,
T(With nettles skirted, and with moss o'ergrown)
O'ersome new-open'd grave; and, strange to tell!
Prone on the lonely grave of the dear man That throbs beneath the sacrificer's knife :
And coward insults of the base-born crowd,
Invidious Grave! how dost thou rend in sunder In mode and form, ev'n to a very scruple; Whom love has knit, and sympathy made one! O crucl irony! these come too late; A tie more stubborn far than nature's band. Andonly mock whom they were meant to hovor. Friendship! mysterious coment of the soul! Surely, there's not a dungeon-slave that's buried Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society!
In the high-way unshrouded and uncoffin'd, I owe thee much. Thou hast deserv'ü from me, But lies as soft, and sleeps as sound as he. Far, far beyond what I can ever pak.
Sorry pre-eminence of high descent Oft have I prov'd the labours of ily love, Above the vulgar born, to rot in state! Ton, And the warm efforts of the gentle heart
But see! the well-plum'd hearse coines nodding Anxious to please. O! when iny friend and I Stately and slow ; and properly attended In some thick wood have wanderd heedless on, By the whole sable tribe, that painful watch Hid froin the vulgar eye, and set us down. The sick man's door, and live upon the dead, Upon the sloping cowslip-cover'd bank, By letting out their persons by the hour Where the pure limpid stream has slid along. To mimic sorrow' when the heart's not sad ! In grateful errors tho' the underwood fihrigh How rich the trappings, now they're all unfurled Sweet murin'ring; methought, theshri!l-tongued And glitt'ring in the sun! triumphant entries Vended his song of love; the sooly blackbird JOf conquerors, anel coronation poinps, Mellow'd his pipe, and soften'd ev'ry note; In glory scarce csceed. Great gluts of people The eglantine smelld sweeter, and the rose Retard the unwieldy show; whilst from the Assuin'da dve more deep; whilst ev'ry flow'r
casements, Vied with his fellow-plant in luxury
| And housetops, ranks behind ranks close wedd Of dress. Oh! then ihe longest summer's dlay (Hang bellyingo'er. But tell us, why this waste? Seem'd too, too inuch in haste; still the full heart Why this ado in earthing up a carcase Had not imparted half: 'twas happiness That's fallen into disgrace, and in the nostril Too exquisite to last. Of joys departed, | Smells horrible? Ye undertakers ! tell us, Not to return, how painful the renembrance! Micist all the gorgeous figures you exlujbit, Dull Grare! thou spoil'st the dance of youth- Why is the principal conceald, for which ful blood,
You make this mighty stir? Tis wisely done: Strik'st out the dimple from the check of mir:h, What would offend the eye in a good picture, And ev'ry smirking fcature from the face; The Painter casts discrecily inso shades. Branding our laughter with the nameutnadness. Proud lineage, now how liule thou appear'st! Where are the jesters now? the man of health Below the only of the private man! Complexiopally pleasant? where die droll? Hunor, that nieudlesoie officious ill, Whose ev'ry look aud jesture was a joke) Pursues thee c'en to death, nor there stops short. To clapping theatres and shouting crown's, Strange persecution! when the grave itself And made ev’n thick-lipp'd musing Helancholy Is no protection from rude sufferance. To gather up her face into a smile
Absurd ! 10 think to over-reach the grave! Before she was aware? (Ah! sullen now, And froin the wreck of males to rescue nurs! And dumb as the green terfthat covers them! The best concerted schemes men lay for fume
Where are the mighty thunderbolis of war? | Die fast away: only theinselves die faster. The Roman Caesars and the Grecian chiefs, The far-famd sculptor, and the laurel bard, The boast of story? Where the hot-brain'd youth? Those bold insurers of cieral fame, Who the tiara at his pleasure tore
Supply their little feeble ajis in rain, From kings of all the then discover'd globe; The tap'ring pyramid, th’Egyptiani's pride, And cried, forsooth, because his arm was hain- And wonder of the world! whose spiky lop And had not room enough todo it's work? [per'd, Has wounded the thick cloud, and long ouilivid Alas! how slim, dishonorably slimi!
The angry shaking of the winter's sion; And cramm'd into a space we blush to name. Yet speni at last by th' injuries of heav'ni, Proud royalty! how alter'din thy looks! Shatter'd with age, and surrow'do'er with years, How blank thy features, and how wan thy hue! The mystic cone with hieroglyphies crusted, Son of the morning! wbither art thou gone? Gives way. O lamentable sight! at once Where hast thou hid thy many-spangled head, The labour of whole aces lumbers doin; And the majestic menace of thine eyes
A hideous and mis-shapen length of ruins. Felt from afar? Pliant and powerless now Scpulchral columns wrestle but in rain Like new-born infant bound up in his swathes, With all-subduing Time; her cank'ring hand Or victim tumbled Hat upon his back.
With calm deliberate malice wasteth them:
Worn on the edge of avs, the brass consumes, I Like a hard hunteil beast. How his great heart The busto moulders, and the deep-cut marble, Beats thick! his roomy chest by far too scant Unsteady to the steel, gives up its charge. To give thelungs full jul ! what now avail Ambition, half conviciod of her folly,
The strong-built sinewy limbs, and well-sprcad. Hangs down the head, and rerldens at the tale. shoulders!
Here all the mighty troublers of the earth, See how he tugs for life, and lays about him, Who swam to sov'reign rule thro' seas of blood; Vad with his pain! eager he catches hold Th'oppressive, sturdy, man-destroying villains, of what comes next to hand, and grasps it hard, Who ravaz'd kingdoms, and laid empires waste, Just like a creature drowning! hideoin sight! And in a cruel wantonness of pow'r, : Oh! how his eyes stand out and stare fullglasti! Thinn'd states of half their people, and gave up | Whilst llie distemper's rank and deadly renom To want the rest ; now, likea storm that's spent, Shoots like a burning arrow cross his bowels, Liehush'd, and meanly speak behind they covert. Indilind bis marrow up. Ileard you that groan? Vain thoughi to hide them from the genralscoin It was his lasi. See how the great Goliath, That haunts and dogs them like an injur'd ghost Jutlikerchechatbrawld itselfto rest, boaster! Iinplacable. Here ion, the petty tyrant, Lies still. What mean'st thou then, o mighty Whose scaut domains geographer ne'er notic'd, Tovaantofnervesofthine? What meansthebull, And, well for neighb'ring grounds, of arm as: Uuconcioly of his strength, to play the coward, Who fix'! his iron talons on the poor, (short, And flee before a feeble thing like man ; And grip'd thein like some lordly beast of prey, That, knowing well the slackness of his arm, Deaf to ihe forcciul cries of gnawing hunger, Trusts only in the well-invented knife! And piteous plaintive voice of misery
With study pale, and midnight vigils spent, (As it a slave was not a shred of nature, | The star-surveying sage close to his eye Of the same common nature as his lord); Applies the sight-invigorating tube ; Now tameand humble,likeaciuildhat'swhipp'd, Andtrav'lling tbro'the boundless length of space, Shakes hands with dust, and calls the worm his Marks well the courses of the far-seen orbs, kinsman;
| That roll with regular confusion there, Norpleads his rankandbirthright. Underground In ecstasy of thought. But ah! proud man! Precedency's a jest; vassal and lord,
Great heights arc hazardous to the weak head! Grossly fainiliar, side by side consume. So011, very soon, thy firmesi footing fails; [place,
When self-esteem, or others adulation, lind down thou dropp'st into that darksome Wouldcunuingly persoade us we were something IF here nor device nor knowledge ever came. Above the comnion level of our kind; Hatt'ry, Here the tongue-warrior lies! disabledł now, The Grave gainsays the sinouth complexion d Disarmid, rlishonor'd, like a wretch that's gagg'd, And with blunt truth acquaints us what we are. And cannot tell his ail to passers-by. [change?
Beauty! thou preity plaything! dear deceit! Great wan of language, whence this mighty That steals so sofily o'er the stripling's heart, This domub despair, and drooping of the head? And gives it a new pulse unknown before ! Thouch strong persuasiou hung upon thy lip, The grave discredits thce: thy charms expung'd, And sly insinuation's softer arts Thy roses faded, and thy lilies soilidh,
In ambush lay about thy flowing tongue : What hast thou niore to boast of? Will thy lovers Alas! how chop-fill'n now ! thick mists and Flock round thee now, togazeanddothee homage? Rest, like a wcary cloud, upon thy breast (silence Methinks I see thee with thy head low-laid; Unceasing. Ah! where is the lifted arin, Whilst surfeited npon thy damask cheek, The strength of action, and the force of words, The high-fed worm in lazy volumes rollid, The well-ium'd period, and the well-tuudioice, Riots unscar'd. For this was all thy caution! With all the lesser ornaments of phrase ? For this thy painful labours at thy glass, Ah! Aed for ever, as they ne'er had been! Timprove those charms, and keep ihein in repair, Raz'd from the book offame, or, more provoking, Forwhichthespoiler thanksthee not? Foul feeder! Perhaps some hackney, hunger-bitten scribbler Coarse fare and carrion please thee full as well, Insults thy memory, and blots thy tomb And leave as keen a relish on the sense. . With long Alat narratives, or duller rhimes Look how the fair one weeps! the conscious tears With heavy halting pace that drawl alongi Siand thick as dew-drops on the bells of flow'rs: Enough to rouse a dead man into rage, Honest effusion! the swoln heart in vain And warm with red resentment the wan check. Works hard to put a gloss on its distress.
llere the great masters of the healing art, . Strength too! thou surly, and less gentle boast These mighty mock defrauders of the toinb! Of those that laugh loud at the village ring! Spite of their julaps and catholicons, A fit of common sickness pulls thee down, Resign to fate. Proud Esculapius' son, With greaterease thane'er thou didst the stripling Where are thy boasted implements of art, That rashly dar'd ihee to thi' unequal fight. And all thy well-craim'd magazines of health? What groan was that I heard? deep groanindeed! | Nor hill, nor rale, as far as ship could go, With anguish heavy laden! let me trace it; Nor margin of the gravel-bottom'd brook, From yonder bed it comes, where the strong man Escap'd thy riAing hands: from stubborn shrubs By stronger arm belabour d, gasps for breath Thou wrung'st their shy retiring virtues out,
And vex'd them in the fire nor fly, nor insect, | By stealing out of being when he pleas’d,
Here, the lank-sided miser, worst of felons! Ind suffer'd to speak out, tells ev'ry man,
Self-in urder! name it not ; our island's shame, To his own carcase, now lies cheaply lodg’d, That makes her the reproach of neighb'ring states, By clam'rous appetites no longer teasd, Shall nature, swerving from her earliest dictate, Nor tedious bills of charges and repairs. Self-preservation, fall by her own act ? But, ab! where are his rents, his comings in? Forbid it, Hear'n ! let not upon disgust, Ay! now you've made the rich inan poor indeed: The shameless hand be foully crimson'd o'er Robbid of his gods, what has he left behind? With blood of its own lord. 'Dreadful attempt ! O cursed lust of gold! when for thy sake Just reeking from self-slaughter, in a rage The fool throws up his int'rest in both worlds, To rush into the presence of our Judge! First starv din this, then damn’d in that to come. As if we challeng'd him to do his worst,
How shocking mustthysummons be,ODeath! And matter'd nothis wrath. Unheard of tortures To him that is at case in his possessions;
Must be reserv'd for such ; these herd together; Who, counting on long years of pleasure here, The coinmon damn'd shun their society, Is quite unfurnish'd for that world to come! And look upon themselves as fiends less foul. In that dread moment, how the frantic soul Our time is fix'd; and all our days are number'd; Raves round the walls of her clay tenement, How long, how short, we know not: thiswe know, Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help, Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, But shrieks in vain! how wishfully she looks Nor dare to stir till Heav'n shall give permission. On all she's leaving, now no longer her's ! Like sentries that must keep their destin'd stand, A little longer, yet a little longer,
Aud wait th' appointed hour, till they're reliev'd. O might she stay to wash away her stains,
| Those only are the brave who keep their ground, And åt her for her passage! mournful sight!
And keep it to the last. To run away Her very eyes weep blood; and every groan
Is but a coward's trick : to run away She heaves is big with horror: but the foe,
From this world's ills, that at the very worst Like a staunch murd'rer steady to his purpose,
Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves Pursues her close through ev'ry lane of life,
By boldly vent'ring on a world unknown, Nur misses once the track, but presses on ;
And plunging headlong in the dark ; 'tis inad : Till, forc'd at last to the tremendous verge,
o frenzy half so desperate as this. At once she sinks to everlasting ruin.)
Tell us, ye dead! will none of you in pity Sure, 'uis a serious thing to die! my soul! To those you left behind disclose the secret? What a strange moment must it be, when near | O! that some courteous ghost would blab it out. Thy journey's end thou hast the gulf in view! What 'tis you are, and we must shortly be. That awful gulf no mortal e'er repassd
I've heard that souls departed have sometimes To tell what's doing on the other side!
| Forewarn'd men of their death : 'twas kindly done Nature rans back and shudders at the sight, sing? To knock and give th' alarm. But what means And ev'ry life-string bleeds at thoughts of part-/This stinted charity ? 'tis but lame kindness For part they must : body and soul must part;
| That doesits work by halves. Why might you not Fond couple? link'd more close than wedded pair. Tell us what 'tis too
Tell us what 'tis to die? Do the strict laws This wings its way to its Almighty Source,
For your society forbid your speaking The witness of its actions, now its judge ;
| Upon a point so nice? I'll ask no more; That drops into the dark and noisoine grave,
Sullen like lamps in sepulchres, your shine Like a disabled pitcher, of no use.
Enlightens but yourselves : well us no matter: If death was nothing, and nought after death: A very little time will clear up all, If, when men died, at once they ceas'd to be. And make us learn'd as you are, and as close. Returning to the barren womb of nothing. Ichcel Death's shasis fly thick! Here falls the village Whence first they sprung; then might the debau
[round, Entremblinginouth the hear'ns; then might the And there his pamper'd lord! The cup goes drunkard
| And who so ariful as to put it by ? Reel over his full bowl, and when 'tis draind | 'Tis long since death had the majority; Fill up another to the brim, and laugh (wretch | Yet, strange! the living lay it not to heart. At the poor bug-bear Death; then might the See yonder maker of the dead man's bed, That's weary of ihe world, and tir'd of life, The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle! Ai once give each inquietude the slip,
Ofhard unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole.
• A gentle