Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Here then, the riddle, mark'd above, unfolds; 165 Then time turns torment, when man turns a fool. We rave, we wrestle, with Great Nature's Plan; We thwart the Deity; and 'tis decreed, Who thwart his will, fhall contradict their own. Hence our unnatural quarrels with ourselves; Our thoughts at enmity; our bofom-broil; We push Time from us, and we wish him back : Lavish of luftrums, and yet fond of life;

170

Life we think long, and short; Death seek, and fhun: Body and foul, like peevish man and wife,

United jar, and yet are loth to part.

Oh the dark days of vanity! while here,

How tastelefs! and how terrible, when gone!

173

Gone! they ne'er go; when paft, they haunt us ftill; The spirit walks of every day deceas'd;

And smiles an angel, or a fury frowns.

Nor death, nor life delight us. If time past,

And time poffeft, both pain us, what can please ?
That which the Deity to please ordain'd,

180

Time us'd. The man who confecrates his hours 185 By vigorous effort, and an honeft aim,

At once he draws the fting of life and death;

He walks with Nature; and her paths are peace.
Our error's cause and cure are feen: See next
Time's Nature, Origin, Importance, Speed;
And thy great Gain from urging his career.
All fenfual man, becaufe untouch'd, unfeen,
He looks on Time as nothing. Nothing else
Is truly man's; 'tis fortune's-Time's a god.

190

Haft

Haft thou ne'er heard of Time's omnipotence;

For, or against, what wonders he can do!

And will: To ftand blank neuter he difdains.

195

Not on thofe terms was Time (heaven's ftranger!) fent
On his important embaffy to man.

Lorenzo no: On the long-deftin'd hour,
From everlasting ages growing ripe,
That memorable hour of wondrous birth,
When the Dread Sire, on emanation bent,
And big with nature, rising in his might,
Call'd forth creation (for then Time was born),
By Godhead ftreaming through a thousand worlds;
Not on those terms, from the great days of heaven,
From old eternity's myfterious orb,

Was Time cut off, and caft beneath the skies;
The skies, which watch him in his new abode,
Measuring his motions by revolving spheres ;
That horologe machinery divine.

200

205

210

Hours, days, and months, and years, his children, play,
Like numerous wings around him, as he flies:

Or, rather, as unequal plumes, they shape
His ample pinions, fwift as darted flame,
To gain his goal, to reach his ancient reft,
And join anew Eternity his fire;

In his immutability to neft,

215

When worlds, that count his circles now, unhing'd 220 (Fate the loud fignal founding) headlong rufh

To timeless night and chaos, whence they rofe.
Why fpur the speedy? Why with levities
New wing thy fhort, fhort day's too rapid flight?

Know'ft

Know'ft thou, or what thou doft, or what is done?

225

Man flies from Time, and Time from man; too foon
In fad divorce this double flight must end;
And then, where are we? where, Lorenzo! then
Thy sports thy pomps?-I grant thee, in a ftate
Not unambitious; in the ruffled fhroud,

230

Thy Parian tomb's triumphant arch beneath.
Has Death his fopperies? Then well may Life
Put on her plume, and in her rainbow shine.
Ye well-array'd! ye lilies of our land!

Ye lilies male! who neither toil, nor spin, (As fifter lilies might) if not fo wife

235

As Solomon, more fumptuous to the fight!
Ye delicate! who nothing can fupport,
Yourselves most insupportable! for whom
The winter rofe muft blow, the fun put on

240

A brighter beam in Leo; filky-soft

Favonius breathe ftill fofter, or be chid;

And other worlds fend odours, fauce, and fong,

And robes, and notions, fram'd in foreign looms!

O ye Lorenzos of our age! who deem

245

One moment unamus'd, a mifery

Not made for feeble man! who call aloud
For every bawble drivel'd o'er by sense;

For rattles, and conceits of every cast,

For change of follies, and relays of joy,

250

To drag your patient through the tedious length
Of a fhort winter's day-fay, fages! fay,

Wit's oracles! fay, dreamers of gay dreams!

How

How will you weather an eternal night,
Where fuch expedients fail?

255

O treacherous Confcience! while fhe feems to fleep On rofe and myrtle, lull'd with fyren fong;

While fhe feems, nodding o'er her charge, to drop
On headlong Appetite the flacken'd rein,

And give us up to licence, unrecall'd,

Unmark'd ;-fee, from behind her fecret ftand,
The fly informer minutes every fault,

260

And her dread diary with horror fills.

Not the gross Act alone employs her pen ;

She reconnoitres Fancy's airy band,

265

A watchful foe! the formidable spy,

Listening, o'erhears the whispers of our camp:
Our dawning purposes of heart explores,
And steals our embryos of iniquity.

As all rapacious ufurers conceal

Their doomsday-book from all-confuming heirs ;
Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats
Us fpendthrifts of ineftimable Time ;

Unnoted, notes each moment misapply'd ;

In leaves more durable than leaves of brafs
Writes our whole history; which Death shall read
In every pale delinquent's private ear;
And Judgment publish; publish to more worlds
Than this; and endless age in groans refound.
Lorenzo, fuch that Sleeper in thy breast!
Such is her flumber; and her vengeance fuch
For flighted counfel; fuch thy future peace!
And think'st thou ftill thou canst be wife too foon?

270

275

280

But

But why on Time fo lavish is my fong?
On this great theme kind Nature keeps a school,
To teach her fons herself. Each night we die,
Each morn are born anew: Each day, a life!
And shall we kill each day? If Trifling kills;
Sure Vice must butcher. O what heaps of flain
Cry out for vengeance on us! Time destroy'd
Is Suicide, where more than Blood is fpilt.
Time flies, death urges, knells call, heaven invites,
Hell threatens : All exerts; in effort, all;

More than creation labours!-labours more?
And is there in creation what, amidst
This tumult univerfal, wing'd dispatch,
And ardent energy, fupinely yawns?

Man fleeps; and Man alone; and Man, whose fate,
Fate irreversible, intire, extreme,

285

290

295

Endlefs, hair-hung, breeze-fhaken, o'er the gulph 300
A moment trembles; drops! and Man, for whom
All elfe is in alarm! Man, the fole caufe

Of this furrounding storm! and yet he fleeps,
As the ftorm rock'd to reft.-Throw Years away?
Throw Empires, and be blameless. Moments feize; 305
Heaven's on their wing: A moment we may with,
When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid Day stand still,
Bid him drive back his car, and reimport

The period paft, re-give the given hour.
Lorenzo, more than miracles we want ;
Lorenzo-O for yesterdays to come!

Such is the language of the man awake ;

310

His ardour fuch, for what oppresses thee.

And

« AnteriorContinuar »