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THE
COMPLAINT.
NIGHT the FIRST.
ON
Life, Death, and Immortality.
Humbly Inscribed
To the Right Honourable
Arthur Onslow, Esq;
Speaker of the House of Commons.
TIR'D Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep!
He, like the World, his ready Visit pays
Where Fortune smiles; the Wretched he forsakes:
Swift on his downy Pinion flies from Woe,
And lights on Lids unsullied with a Tear.
From short (as usual) and disturb'd Repose,
I wake: how happy they, who wake no more!
Yet that were vain, if Dreams infest the Grave.
I wake, emerging from a Sea of Dreams
Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding Thought,
From Wave to Wave of fansy'd Misery,
At random drove, her Helm of Reason lost.
Tho' now restor'd, 'tis only Change of Pain,
He, like the World, his ready Visit pays
Where Fortune smiles; the Wretched he forsakes:
Swift on his downy Pinion flies from Woe,
And lights on Lids unsullied with a Tear.
From short (as usual) and disturb'd Repose,
I wake: how happy they, who wake no more!
Yet that were vain, if Dreams infest the Grave.
I wake, emerging from a Sea of Dreams
Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding Thought,
From Wave to Wave of fansy'd Misery,
At random drove, her Helm of Reason lost.
Tho' now restor'd, 'tis only Change of Pain,
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