Muft I then forward only look for death? Backward I turn mine eye, and find him there. 716 Man is a felf-furvivor every year.

Man, like a stream, is in perpetual flow.
Death's a destroyer of quotidian prey.
My youth, my noon-tide, His; my yesterday;
The bold invader fhares the present hour.

Each moment on the former fhuts the grave.
While man is growing, life is in decrease ;
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun;
As tapers wafte, that inftant they take fire.

715

720

Shall we then fear, left that should come to pass, Which comes to pass each moment of our lives? If fear we must, let that death turn us pale, Which murders ftrength and ardour; what remains Should rather call on death, than dread his call. 725 Ye partners of my fault, and my decline!

Thoughtless of death, but when your neighbour's knell
(Rude vifitant!) knocks hard at your dull sense,
And with its thunder scarce obtains your ear!
Be death your theme, in every place and hour; 750
Nor longer want, ye monumental Sires!

A brother tomb to tell you ye fhall die.

That death you dread (fo great is nature's skill )
Know, you shall court before you shall enjoy.

But you are learn'd; in volumes, deep you fit; 735

In wisdom fhallow: pompous ignorance!

Would you be ftill more learned than the learn'd? Learn well to know how much need not be known,

And what that knowledge, which impairs your fenfe.
Our needful knowledge, like our needful food,
Unhedg'd, lies open in life's common field;
And bids all welcome to the vital feast.
You fcorn what lies before you in the page

740

Of nature, and experience, moral truth; -;

Of indifpenfable, eternal fruit;

745

Fruit, on which mortals feeding, turn to gods:

And dive in fcience for diftinguifh'd names,

Difhoneft fomentation of your pride!

Sinking in virtue, as you rife in fame.

Your learning, like the lunar beam, affords
Light, but not heat; it leaves you undevout,
Frozen at heart, while fpeculation fhines.
Awake, ye curious indagators! fond

750

Of knowing all, but what avails you known.
If you would learn death's character, attend.
All cafts of conduct, all degrees of health,
All dies of fortune, and all dates of age,

755

Together fhook in his impartial urn,

Come forth at random: or, if choice is made,
The choice is quite farcaftic, and infults

760

All bold conjecture, and fond hopes of man.
What countless multitudes not only leave,
But deeply disappoint us, by their deaths!
Though great our forrow, greater our furprize,
Like other tyrants, death delights to fmite,
What, fmitten, moft proclaims the pride of power,

765

And arbitrary nod. His joy fupreme,

To bid the wretch furvive the fortunate;

The

The feeble wrap th' athletic in his shroud;

And weeping fathers build their childrens tomb: 770 Me Thine, Narciffa !-What though short thy date? Virtue, not rolling funs, the mind matures.

end.

That life is long, which anfwers life's great
The time that bears no fruit, deferves no name;
The man of wisdom is the man of years.

In hoary youth Methufalems may die;

O how mifdated on their flattering tombs !
Narciffa's youth has lectur'd me thus far.
And can her gaiety give counfel too?
That, like the Jews fam'd oracle of gems,
Sparkles inftruction; fuch as throws new light,
And opens more the character of death;

Ill-known to thee, Lorenzo! This thy vaunt:

775

780

“ Give death his due, the wretched, and the old ;'
"Ev'n let him sweep his rubbish to the grave; 785
"Let him not violate kind nature's laws,

"But own man born to live as well as die."
Wretched and old thou giv'ft him; young
and gay.
He takes; and plunder is a tyrant's joy..
What if I
"Are often nearest to the stroke of Fate ?"

prove, "That fartheft from the fear, 790

All, more than common, menaces an end.

A blaze betokens brevity of life:

As if bright embers should emit a flame,
Glad fpirits fparkled from Narciffa's eye,

And made youth younger, and taught life to live.
As nature's oppofites wage endless war,
For this offence, as treafon to the deep

13

795

Inviolable

Inviolable ftupor of his reign,

Where luft, and turbulent ambition, fleep,

Death took fwift vengeance. As he life detefts,
More life is ftill more odious; and, reduc'd
By conqueft, aggrandizes more his power.

But wherefore aggrandiz'd.? By heaven's decree,
To plant the foul on her eternal guard,
In aweful expectation of our end.

800

805

Thus runs death's dread commiffion : "Strike, but fo "As moft alarms the living by the dead."

Hence fratagem delights him, and Jurprize,.
And cruel sport with man's fecurities.

Not fimple conquest, triumph is his aim

810

And, where leaft fear'd, there conqueft triumphs most. This proves my bold affertion not too bold.

What are his arts to lay our fears afleep?

815

Tiberian arts his purposes wrap up
In deep diffimulation's darkest night.
Like princes unconfeft in foreign courts,
Who travel under cover, death affumes

The name and look of life, and dwells among us.
He takes all shapes that serve his black defigns: 820

Though master of a wider empire far

Than that o'er which the Roman eagle flew.

Like Nero, he 's a fidler, charioteer,
Or drives his phaeton, in female guife;
Quite unfufpected, till, the wheel beneath,

His difarray'd oblation he devours..

He most affects the forms leaft like himself, His flender felf. Hence burly corpulence

825

Is his familiar wear, and fleek difguife.
Behind the rofy bloom he loves to lurk,
Or ambush in a fmile; or wanton dive

In dimples deep; love's eddies, which draw in
Unwary hearts, and fink them in defpair.
Such, on Narciffa's couch he loiter'd long
Unknown; and, when detected, ftill was seen
To mile; fuch peace has innocence in death!
Moft happy they! whom leaft his arts deceive.
One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven,
Becomes a mortal, and immortal man.
Long on his wiles a piqu'd and jealous spy,
I've seen, or dreamt I faw, the tyrant dress;

830

835

840

Lay by his horrors, and put on his smiles.
Say, Mufe, for thou remember'it, call it back,
And fhew Lorenzo the surprising scene;

If 'twas a dream, his genius can explain.

843

'Twas in a circle of the gay I ftood.

Death would have enter'd; Nature push'd him back;

Supported by a doctor of renown,

His point he gain'd. Then artfully dismist

The fage; for death defign'd to be conceal'd.

850

He gave an old vivacious ufurer

His meagre aspect, and his naked bones ;
In gratitude for plumping up his prey,
A pamper'd spendthrift; whose fantastic air,
Well-fashion'd figure, and cockaded brow,
He took in change, and underneath the pride
Of coftly linen, tuck'd his filthy fhroud.
His crooked bow he ftraitea'd to a cane;

855