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Juſt reeking from ſelf-ſlaughter, in a rage
To ruſh into the preſence of our Judge!
As if we challeng'd him to do his worſt,
And matter'd not his wrath! ——Unheard of tortures
Must be reſerv'd for ſuch ——theſe herd together,
The common Damn'd ſhun their ſociety,
And look upon themſelves as fiends less foul.
Our time is fix'd, and all our days, are number'd;
How long, how ſhort, we know not ——this we know,
Duty requires we calmly wait the ſummons,
Nor dare to ſtir till leav'n ſhall give permiſſion;
Like Centries; that muſt keep their deſtin'd ſtand,
And wait th'appointed hour, till they're reliev'd.
Thoſe only are the brave, that keep their ground,
And keep it to the laſt. ——To run away,
Is but a coward's trick:——To run away
From this world's ills, that, at the very worſt,
Will ſoon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourſelves
By boldly vent'ring on a world unknown,
And plunging headlong in the dark ——'tis mad!
ko trenzy half ſo deſperate as this!
Tell us, ye dead ——will none of you, in pity
To thoſe you left behind, diſcloſe the ſecret?
Oh! that some courteous ghoſt would blab it out,
What 'tis you are, and we must ſhortly be.
I've heard, that ſouls departed, have ſometimes
Forwarn'd men of their death. ——'Twas kindly done
To knock, and give the alarm! ——But what means
This tinted charity? ——'Tis but lame kindneſs
That does its work by halves. Why might you not
Tell us what 'tis to die? ——Do the ſtrict law's
of your ſociety forbid your ſpeaking
Upon a point so nice? ——I'll aſk no more:
Sullen, like lamps in ſepulchres, your ſhine
Enlightens but yourſelves. Well, tis no matter;
A very little time will clear up all,
And make us learn'd as you are, and a cloſe.
