Page:Resignation - Edward Young (1762).pdf/64

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But soon, quite level shall we lie;
and what pride most bemoans,
Our parts, in rank so distant now,
as level as our bones;

Hear you that sound? alarming sound!
prepare to meet your fate!
One, who writes finis to our works,
is knocking at the gate;

Far other works will soon be weigh'd;
far other judges sit;
Far other crowns be lost, or won,
than fire ambitious wit:

Their wit far brightest will be prov'd,
who sunk it in good sense;
And veneration most profound
of dread Omnipotence.

'Tis that alone unlocks the gate
of blest eternity;
O! may'st thou never, never lose
that more than [1]golden key.

Whatever may seem too rough excuse,
your good I have at heart:
Since from my soul I wish you well;
as yet we must not part:

Shall

  1. Alluding to Prussia.