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The Complaint.
Night 5.
"But own Man born to Live, as well as Die."
Wretched and Old Thou giv'st Him; Young and Gay
He takes; and Plunder is a Tyrant's Joy.
What if I prove, "The farthest from the Fear,
"Are often nearest to the Stroke of Fate?"
All, more than common, menaces an End.
A Blaze betokens Brevity of Life:
As if bright Embers should emit a Flame,
Glad Spirits sparkled from Narcissa's Eye,
And made Youth younger, and taught Life to live. A
As Nature's Opposites wage endless War,
For this Offence, as Treason to the deep
Inviolable Stupor of his Reign,
Where Lust, and turbulent Ambition, sleep,
Death took swift Vengeance. As he Life detests,
More Life is still more odious; and, reduc'da ba
By Conquest, aggrandizes more his Pow'r.
But wherefore aggrandiz'd? By Heav'n's Decree,
To plant the Soul on her eternal Guard,
In aweful Expectation of our End.
Thus runs Death's dread Commislion: "Strike, but so,
"As most alarms the Living by the Dead."
Hence Stratagem delights him, and Surprize,
And cruel Sport with Man's Securities.
Not simple Conquest, Triumph is his Aim;
And, where least fear'd, there Conquest triumphs most.
This proves my bold Assertion not too bold.
What are His Arts to lay our Fears asleep?
Tiberian Arts his Purposes wrap up
In deep Dissimulation's darkest Night.
Like Princes unconfest in foreign Courts,
Who travel under Cover, Death assumes
The Name and Look of Life, and dwells among us.
He takes all Shapes that serve his black Designs:
Tho' Master of a wider Empire far
Wretched and Old Thou giv'st Him; Young and Gay
He takes; and Plunder is a Tyrant's Joy.
What if I prove, "The farthest from the Fear,
"Are often nearest to the Stroke of Fate?"
All, more than common, menaces an End.
A Blaze betokens Brevity of Life:
As if bright Embers should emit a Flame,
Glad Spirits sparkled from Narcissa's Eye,
And made Youth younger, and taught Life to live. A
As Nature's Opposites wage endless War,
For this Offence, as Treason to the deep
Inviolable Stupor of his Reign,
Where Lust, and turbulent Ambition, sleep,
Death took swift Vengeance. As he Life detests,
More Life is still more odious; and, reduc'da ba
By Conquest, aggrandizes more his Pow'r.
But wherefore aggrandiz'd? By Heav'n's Decree,
To plant the Soul on her eternal Guard,
In aweful Expectation of our End.
Thus runs Death's dread Commislion: "Strike, but so,
"As most alarms the Living by the Dead."
Hence Stratagem delights him, and Surprize,
And cruel Sport with Man's Securities.
Not simple Conquest, Triumph is his Aim;
And, where least fear'd, there Conquest triumphs most.
This proves my bold Assertion not too bold.
What are His Arts to lay our Fears asleep?
Tiberian Arts his Purposes wrap up
In deep Dissimulation's darkest Night.
Like Princes unconfest in foreign Courts,
Who travel under Cover, Death assumes
The Name and Look of Life, and dwells among us.
He takes all Shapes that serve his black Designs:
Tho' Master of a wider Empire far
Than
