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TO THE RIGHT HON.
W by that eye
Beware, Lorenzo! a low sudden death... I roll their raptures, but not catch their fire.
Dark, though not blind, like thee, Mæonides ! Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer ; 390 Or Milton thee; ah, could I reach your fèraini Next day the fatal precedent will plead;
Or His, who made Mænnides our Own. Thus on, till wisdoni is push'd out of life. Nian too He sung : immortal man I fing; Procrastination is the thief of time;
Oft bursts my long beyond the bounds of lise ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled,
What now, but inmortality con please? 455 And on the mercics of a moment leaves 395 O had He prels'd his theme, pursued the track, The vast concerns of an eternal'scene.
Which opens out of darkness into day! If not so frequent, would not This be strange? O had he mounted on his wing of fire, That 'cis so frequent, This is stranger still. Soar'd where I fink, and sung immortal man!
Of man's miraculous mistakcs, this bears How had it blest mankind, and rescued me! 460 The palm, “ That all men are about to live,'' For ever on the brink of being born. All pay themselvre the compliment to think
NIGHT THE SECOND. They one day shall not drivel: and their pride On this reverlion takes up ready praise; At least their own ; their futiero felves applaud; TIME, DEATH, AND FRIENDSHIP. How excellent that life they ne'er will lead! 406 'Time Jody'd in their own hands is foily's vails : Thac lodg'u in fates, to 'coildom chey conlign ;
THE EARL OF WILMINGTON. The thing they can't but purpose, they posipone;
HEN the Cock crew, he wept”-smote Mi is not in folly, not to fcorn a fool; 410
eye And scarce in human wisdom, to do more. Which looks on me, on all : That power, who All promise is poor dilatory man,
bids And that through every stage: when young, in- bis midnight centinel, with clarion Thrill, deed,
Emblem of that which shall awake the dead, In full content we, sometimes, nobly ret, Rouse fouls from slumber, into thoughts of heaven. Unanxious for ourselves ; and only wish,
Shall I too weep? Where then is fortitude ? As durcous fons, our fasbers were more wise. And fortitude abandon'd, where is nian? At thirty man suspects himself a foul;
I know the terms on which he sees the light; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
He that is born, is lifted ; life is war; At fif y chides his infamous delay,
Eternal war with woe. Who bears it best, I Pulhes his prudent purpose to resolve ; 420 Deserves is leait. On other themes I'll dwell. In all the magnanimity of thought
Lorenzo ! let me turn my thoughts on thee, Resolves; and re-resolves ; then dies the same. And thine, on themes may profit; proht there,
And why? Because he thinks hin felf immortal. Where inost the need. Themes, too, the genuine All men think all men mortal, but l'hemselves ; growth Themselves, when some alarming frock of fate of dear Philander's dust. He thus, though dead, Serikes through tiveir wounded hearts the sudden May ltill befriend - What themes ? Time's wor
dread; But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Death, Friendship, and Philander's final scene. Svon close; where, past the shaft, no trace is So could I touch these themes, as might obtain found.
Thine car, nor leave thy heart quite disengag'd, As from the eving, no scar the sky retains ; The good deed would delight me; half impress The parted wave no furrow from the keel; 430 On my dark cloud an Iris; and from grief So dies in human hearts the thoughts of death, Call glory-Doft ihou mourn Philander's fate? Er'n with the tender tear which nature iheds I know thou fay'st it : Says thy life the same ? V'er those we love, we drop it in their grave. He mourns the dead, who lives as they defire. Can I forget Philander ? hat were Itrange ! Where is that thirst, that avarice of Time, 25 O my fuli heart !~But lould I give it vent, 435 (o glorious avarice!) thought of death inspires, The longest night, though longer far, would fail, às rumour'd robberies endear our gold ? And the lark listen to my midnight long.
Time! than gold more sacréd; more a load The Sprightly lark's Shrill mattin wakes the Than lead, to fools ; and fools reputed wife. inorui ;
What moment granted men without account? Grief's sharpeit thorn hard pressing on my breast, what years are squander'd, wifilom's debt unpaid 1 ltrive, w.th wakeful melody, to chear 440 | Our wealth in days, all due to that discharge. The fullen gloom, sweet Philomel ! like Thee, Hafte, haste, he lies in wait, hc's at the door, And call the stars to listen : estry itar
latidious Deulle! Mould his strong hand arrelt, Is deaf to mine, enamour'd of thy lay.
No composition sets the prisoner free.
35 Yec be not vain ; there are, who th ne excel, I terning's inexorable chain And charm through distant ages : wrapt in Thade, l'ast binds; and vengeance claims the full arrear. Prisoner of darkness : tv the filent hours,
How lace I shudder'd on the brink! how late how often I repeat their rage divine,
Life call'd for her lase refuge in despair! 2. lull my grisis, and itcal my heart from woe! That Time is mine, O Meau ! to the lowe
lain would I pay thee with eternity.
He spoke, as if deputed by mankind,
So fhould all speak : So reason (peaks in all:
From the soft whispers of that god in man, · Accept the will;-- that dics not with my strain. Why fly to folly, why to phrenzy_dy.
For what call thy disease, Lerenzo? not 45 For refere from the birjing we post:Ix?
Time the supreme lime is Erernity;
50 A pover ethereal, only not ador'd.
Is thoughtless than klets, inconsilient man! Part with it as with life, reludant, hig
Like children babbling nonsense in their sports
We censure nature for a span too short; ng
To lain the lingering moments into speed,
And whirl us (happy riddance !) from ourselves.
Death, most our dread ; death thus more dreadful
Leifire is pain; takes off our chariot wheels; 125
How heavily we drag the load of life!
B! ft leisure is our curle ; like that of Cain,
The world beneath, we groun beneath an hour.
Redeem we cime!-its loss we dearly buy. 75 | We call him cruel; years to moments Mrink,
Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings,
But his broad pinions (wister than the winds ?
Leave to thy fves these errors, and these ills;
To nature just, their Cause and Cure explore.
No niggard, nature; mien are prodigais
We waft:, not use our tinie; we breathe, not live. linmense revenue | every moment pays,
7 ime zasied is existence, us d is life,
Injoin'd to fly; with tempeft, tide, and stars, "Tis not in things o'er thought to domineer; To keep his speed, nor ever wait for man ; 135 Gnard well thy thought; our thoughts are heard Time's use was doom'd a pleasure : waste a pain; in heaven.
95 That man might feel his error, if unseen : On all important Time, through every age, And, feeling, fly to labour for his cure ; Though much, and warm, the wise have urgʻd; Not, blendering, split on idlenefs for ease. the nan
Life's cares are comforts ; such by heaven design'd;
He that has none, must make them, or be wretched.
Here then, the viddle; mark'd above, unfolds; Knows thou, or what thou dost, or what is Then time turns torment, when man turns a lool.
225 We rave, we wrestle, with Grrat Nature's Plan; Man fies from Time, and Time from man; tuo We thwart the Deity; and 'tis decreed,
foon Whethwart bis will, shall contradict their own. In fad divorre this double flight must end; Hence our umnatural quarrels with on: felves; 170 And then, where are we? where; Lorenzo! then Our ihoughts at enmity; our boion-broil; Thy sports ? chy pomps !--1 grant thee, in a state We push Time from us, and we wilh him back : Not unambitious; in the rifled throud, 230 Lavish of luftrums, and yet fond of life; Thy Parian tomb's triumpbunt arch bencath. Life we think. long, and thort; Deutb leck, and Has Death his fopperies? Then well may Life thult :
Put on her plume, and in her rainbow shine, Body and soul, like peevith man and wife, 175 | Ye quel-urray'd! ye lilies of our land! United jar, and yet are loch to part.
Ye liies male ! who neither toil, nor spin, 235 Oh the dark days of vanity, while here, (As lifter lilies migór) if not so wise How taiteles! and how terrible, when yone! As Solomon, more sumptuous to the sight! Gone! they user yo; when past, they, haunt us Ye delicate! who nothing can support, Mill;
Yourselves molt insupportable! for whom The spirit walks of every day drceas'd; 180 The winter rose must blow, the sun put on And imiles an angel, or a lury frowns.
A brighter beam in Leo; lilky-soft Nor death, nor hfe delight
Tuvonius breathe ftili fofter, or be chid; And time poli A, both paid us, what can please?
And other worlds send odours, sauce, and song, That which che Deity pleaf ordain'd, [185 And robes, and notions, franı'd in foreign loums! Time usid. The man who confecrates tiis hoursye Lorenzos of our age! who deem 245 By vigorous eilurr, and an houcit éim,
One monrent unamus'd, a misery
Our error's cánfe and cure ate teen : Ste next For ratiles, and conceits of every caft,
For change of follies, and relays of joy, 250 And thy great Guin from urking his career. - To drag your parient through the tedious length All-lensual mån, because untouch'd, meen, Of a short winter's day---lay, lages! fay, He looks on 'Time as nothing. Nothing elle Wit's oracles ! fiy, dreamers of gay dreams ! Is truly man's; 'tis fortune',.-- Time's a god How will you weather an eternal nigbt, Haltibru ne'er heard of Time's onnipotence; 193 | Where such expedients fail?
255 For, or against, what wonders he can do!
O treacherous Cunfcience? while she seenis to And will; 'fo Itand blank neuter he dilitains.
sleep Not on tbufe terms was Time heaven's stranger !) | On role and myrtle, lull'd with syren sóng ; fent
While she feens, nodding o'er her charge, to drop On his inportant embally to mian.
On headloug Appetite the Dacken'd rein, Lorenzo ! no: on the long-destin'd hour, 2001 And give us up co licence, unrecallid, 260 From everlasting ages growing ripe,
Unmark'd ;--lee, from behind her secret stand, That memorable hour of wondrous birth, The ny informer minutes every fault, When the Dread Sire, on emanation lent, And her dread diary with horror fills. And big with nature, rising in his might,
Not the grois Ad alone employs her pen ; Callid forth creation (for then Time was born,) 205 She reconnoitres Fancy's airy band, By Godhead streaming through a thoutand worlds; A watchful fve! the formidable spy; Not on these terms, from the great cays of heaven, Listening, o'erhears the whispers of our camp, from old eternity's myflerious orb,
Our dawning purposes of heart explores, Was Time cut off, and cast beneath the skics; And steals our embryos of iniquitg. *The skies, which watch vim in his new abode, 210 As all rapacious usurers conceal
270 Measuring his motions by revolving (phercs ; Their doomsday-book from all.consuming heirs ; That' horologe machinery divine.
Thus, with indulgence mest severe, the treats I lours, days, and montis, and years, his childrça, Us spendthrilts of inestimabie Time; play,
Unnoted, notes each moment misapply'd; Like numerous wings arbund him, as he flies: In leaves more durable than leaves of bruis
275 Or, rather, as unequal plumes, they mape 215 | Writes our whole history i which Deuit thuid His ample pinions, Twift as darted flame,
read To gain his goal, to reach his ancient reft, In every parte delinquent's private ear; And join anew Eternity his fire ;
And Judgment publith ; publish to niore worlds In his immutability to nett,
Than inis; and endless age in groans resound.: When worlds, that count his circles norv; unhing'd Lorenzo, fuchs that Sleeper in thy breast ! 280 (Fate the loud signal founding) headlong rush 221 Such is her flamber; and her vengeance fuchs To timeless night and chaos, whence they role. Før lighted couafel; fuck thy furure peace
Why fpur the speedy? Why with levities And think'st thou fill zbon caust be wise too New wing thy short, short day's too rapid light? foon ?
But why on Time lo lavish is my song? Prone to the centre , crawling in the duft ; 343 On this great theme kind Nature keeps a school, 285 Dismounted every great and glorious aim To reach her funs herself. Each night we die, Embruted every faculty divine ; Each morn are born anew : Each day, a life! Heart-bury'd in the rubbish of the world. And shall we kill each day? If Trifling kills : The world, that gulph of souls, imnior:al fouls, Sure Vice must butcher. O what heaps of flain Souls elevate, angelic, wing'd with fire
350 Cry out for vengear.ce on us! Time destroy'd 290 To reach the distant skics, and triumph there Is Suicide, where more than Blood is spilt. Oa thrones, which shall not mourn their masters Time flies, death urges, knells call, heaven invites, chang'd; Hell threatens: All exerts ; in effort, all; Though we from Eartb ; Ethereal, they that fell. Mere than crcation labours ! labours more? Such veneration due, O man, to man, And is there in creation what, amidst 295
Who venerate themselves, the world despise. 355 This tumult universal, wing'd dispatch, For what, gay friend ! is this escutcbeon'd world, And ardent energy, supinely yawns ?
Which hangs out Death in one eternal night; Man steeps ; and Man alone; and Man, whose A night, that glooms us in the noon-tide ray, fate,
And wraps our thought, at banquets, in the Fate irreversible, intire, extreme,
Aroud ? Endless, hair hung, breeze-fhaken, o'er the gulph Life's little flage is a small eminence, 360 A moment trembles; drops ! and Man, for whom Inch-high the grave above; that home of man, All elle is in alarm ! Man, the sole cause 302 Where dwells the multitude: We gaze around ; Of this surrounding form ! and yet he feeps, We read their monuments; we ligh; and while As the storm rock'd to rest.— Throw Years away? We ligh, we sink ; and are what we deplor'd; Throw Empires, and be blameless. · Moments Lanenting, or lamented, all our lat! 365 seize ;
Is death at distance ? No: He has been on theca Heaven's on their wing : A moment we may wish, and given sure earnest of his final blow, When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid Day stand Thold hours that lately smild, where are they still,
now? Bid him drive back his car, and reimport Pallid to thought, and ghastly! drown'd, all The period past, re-give the given hour.
370 Lorenzo, more than miracles we want; 310 In that great deep, which nothing disembogues ! Lorenzo - for yesterdays to come!
And, dying, they bequeath'd thee small tenowa. Such is the language of the man awake; The rest are on the wing: how tleet their fight! His ardour such, for what oppreffis thee.
Already has the fatal train took fire; And is his ardour vain, Lorenzo ? No ;
A monient, and the world's blown up to the ; That more than miracle the gods indulge; 315
The sun is darkness, and the stars are doft. 375 To-day is Testerday return'd; return'd
'Tis greatly wise to talk with our pał hours; Full power'd to cancel, expiate, raise, adorn, And ask them, what report they bore co heaven; And reinstate us on the Rock of peace.
And how they might have borne more welcome Let it not share its predecessor's fate ; Nor, like its elder sisters, die a fool. 320 Their answers form what men Experience call ; Shall it evaporate in fume? Ay off
If Wisdum's friend, her beft; if not, work foc, Fuliginous, and stain us deeper still?
O reconcile them! Kind Experience cries,
381 Shall we be poorer for the plenty pour d ? “ There's nothing here, but what as nothing More wretched for the clemencies of heaven?
weighs; Where shall I find Him? Angels! tell me “ The more our joy, the more we know it vain ; where.
“ And by fuccels are cutor'd to despair." You know him : He is near you : Point him out : Nor is it only thus, but mult be lo.
385 Shall I see glories beaming from his brow?- Who knows not this, though grey, is (till a child. Or trace his footsteps by the rising flowers ? Loose then from earth the grasp of fond delire, Your golden wings, now hovering o'cr him, fed Weigh anchor, and some happier clime explore. Protection ; now, are waving in applause 330
Art thou so moor'd thou canst not disengage, To that bleft fon of foresight! lord of fute ! Nor give thy thoughts a ply to future scenes? 390 That awful independent on To-morrow !
Since by Life's passing breath, blows up from cartii, Whose work is done ; who triumphs in the Past; Light as the summer's dust, we take in air Whose Yesterdays look backwards with a fmile ; A moment's giddy flight, and fall again ; Nor, like the Parthian, wound him as they fly;335 Join the dull mals, increase the trodden foil, That common, but opprobious lot ! past hours, And Deep, till earth herself fall be no more ; 395 If not by guilt, yet wound us by their flight, Sincetben (as emmcts, their small worldo'erthrown) If folly bounds our prospect by the grave, We, sore amaz'd, from out carth's rains crawl. All feeling of fururity benumb'd;
And rise to fate extreme of foul or fair, All god-like passion for eternals quencht; 340 As man's own choice (controuler of the skics!) All relish of realties expir'd ;
As man's despotic will, perhaps one hour, Renounc'd all correspondence with the skies; (0 how omnipotent is time!) decrees ; Our freedom chain's ; quite wingless our desire ; should not each warning give a strong alarm : In Sense dark-, rison'd all that ought to loar ; Warning, far less than that of boron tosa
From hosom, bleeding oler the facred dead! Twins tyd by nature, if they part, they die.
ny'd ; “ O man, thy kingdom is departing from thee; Speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's critec And, while it" lafts, is emptier than my
rion too! Thade."
Thougltt in the mine, may come forth gold or Its filent language such : nor need'st thou call
470 Thy Magi, to decypher what it meaus.
When coin'd in words, we know its real worth. Know, like the Median, face is in thy walls ; 415 If sterling, store it for thy future use; Doft ak, Horu? W bence? Belshazzar-like, amaz’d?'Twill buy thee benefit ; perhaps renown. Man's make inclofes the sure seeds of death; Thought, too, deliver'd, is the more pofseft ; Lif feeds the murderer ; Ingrate i he thrives Teaching, we learn; and, giving, we retain 475 On her own meal, and then his nurse devours. The births of intellect; when dumb, forgot.
But here, Lorenzo, the delusion lies ; 420 Speech ventilates our intellectual fire; That folar forvozu, as it measures life,
Spercb burnishes our mental magazine ; It life resembles too: life speeds away
Brightens, for ornament; and whets, for use. From point to point, though seennng to land what numbers, sheath'd in erudicion, lie, 483 still.
Plung'd to the hiles in venerable tomes, The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth :
And rusted-in; who might have borne an edge, Too subtle is the movement to be seen ; 425 And play'd a sprightly beam, if born to speech; Yet foon man's hour is up, and we are gone. If born bleft heirs of half their mother's tongue! Warnings point out our danger ; Gnomons, time : 'Tis thought's exchange, which, like th' aiternate As these are useless when the sun is fet : ,
485 So those, but when more glorious Reuson shines. Of waves confiAing, breaks the learned fcuni, Rcafon should judge in all; in reason's eye, 430 and defecates the student's Itanding pool. That sedentary shadow travels hard.
In Contemplation is his proud resource? But such our gravitation to the wrong,
'Tis poor, as proud, by Converse unsustain'd. So prone our hearts to whisper what we wish, Rude thought runs wild in Contemplation's field; *Tis later with the wife than he's aware :
490 A Wilmington goes flower than the fun : 435 Converse, the menage, breaks it to the bit And all mankind mistake their time of day: Qf due restraint; and emulation's spur Ev'n age itself. Fpesh hopes are hourly fown Gives graceful energy, by rivals aw'd. In furrow'd brows. To gentle life's descent 'Tis converse qualifies for solitude: We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain.
As exercise, for falutary reft.
495 We take fair days in winter for the spring ; 440 By that untutor'd, Contemplation raves ; And turn our blessings into bane. Since oft And Nature's fool, by Wisdom is undone. Man must compute that age he cannot feel,
Wifdom, though richer chan Peruvian mines, He scarce believes he's older for his years. And Iweeter than the sweet ambrosial hive, Thus, at life's latest eve, we keep in store What is the, but the means of Happiness? 500 One disappointment sure, to crown the reft; 445 That unobtain'd, than folly more a fool ; The disappointment of a promis'd hour.
A melancholy fool, without her bells. On This, or similar, Philander ! thou
Friendship, the means of wisdom, richly gives Whose mind was moral, as the preacher's The precious end, which makes our wisdoni wisco tongue; Nature, in zeal for human amity,
505 And strong, to wield all science worth the name; Denies, or damps, an undivided joy, How often we taik'd down the summer's fun, Joy is an import; joy is an exchange;
450 Joy flies monopolists: it calls for Twa; And cool'd our passions by the breezy stream! Rich fruit! Heaven-planted! never pluckt by One How often thaw'd and shorten'd winter's eve, Needful auxiliars are our friends, to give SI By conflict kind, that struck out latent truth, To social inan true relish of himself. Best found, so fought; to the Recluse more coy! Full on ourfelves, descending in a line, Thoughts disentangle palling o'er the lip; 455 Plafure's bright beam is feeble in delight: Clean runs the thread; if not, 'tis thrown away, Delight intense is taken by rebound; Or kept to tie up nonsense for a song :
Reverberated pleasures fire the breast. 515 Song, fashionably fruitless; such as stains
Celestial Happiness, whene'er he stoops The Fancy, and unhallow'd Paffion fires;
To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds, Chiming her saints to Cytherea's fane. 460 And one alone, to niake her sweet amends Know'f thou, Lorenzo! what a friend con- For absent heaven--the bosom of a friend; tains ?
Where heart meets heart,' reciprocally fuft, 520 As bees mixt Ne&ar draw from fragrant flowers," Each other's pillow to repose divine. So mea from friendfip, Wisdom and Delight; Beware the counterfeit; in Paffion's flame