Page:Grave, a poem, or, A view of life, death and immortality.pdf/11

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To give the lungs full play. ——What now avail
The ſtrong-built ſinewy limbs, and well-ſpread
ſhoulders?
See how he tugs for life, and lays about him,
Mad with his pain! ——Eager he catches hold
Of what comes next to hand, and graſps it hard,
Juſt like a creature drowning ——hideous sight!
Oh! how his eyes ſtand out, and ſtare full ghaſtly!
Whilst the diſtemper's rank and deadly venom
Shoots like a burning arrow croſs his bowels,
And drinks his marrow up. ——Heard you that groan!
It was his laſt! ——See how the great Goliah,
Juſt like a child, that's brawl'd itſelf to reſt,
Lies ſtill ——What mean'ſt thou then, O mighty boaſter,
To vaunt of nerves of thine? ——What means the Bull,
Unconſcious of his ſtrength, to play the coward,
And flee before a feeble thing like man;
That knowing well the ſlackness of his arm,
Truſts only in the well-invented knife?

With ſtudy pale, and midnight vigils ſpent,
The ſtar-ſurveying ſage, cloſe to his eye
Applies the ſight-invigorating tube;
And travelling thro' the bountileſs length of ſpace,
Marks well the courſes of the far-ſeen orbs,
That roll with regular confuſion there,
In ecſtaſy of thought. But ah! proud man,
Great heights are hazardous to the weak heads
Soon, very ſoon, thy firmeſt footing fails
And down thou dropp'ſt into the darkſome place,
Where nor device, nor knowledge ever came.

Here the tongue-warrior lies, diſabled now;
Diſarm'd, diſhonour'd, like a wretch that's gagg'd;
And cannot tell his ail to paſſers-by.
Great man of language, whence this mighty change?
This dumb despair, and drooping of the head?