On Life, Death, and Immortality.
3
Nor less inspire my Conduct, than my Song;
Teach my best Reason, Reason; my best Will
Teach Rectitude; and fix my firm Resolve
Wisdom to wed, and pay her long Arrear:
Nor let the Phial of thy Vegeance, pour'd
On this devoted Head, be pour'd in vain.
The Bell strikes One. We take no Note of Time,
But from its Loss. To give it then a Tongue,
Is wise in Man. As if an Angel spoke,
I feel the solemn Sound. If heard aright,
It is the Knell of my departed Hours:
Where are they? With the Years beyond the Flood.
It is the Signal that demands Dispatch:
How much is to be done? My Hopes and Fears
Start up alarm'd, and o'er Life's narrow Verge
Look down—On what? A fathomless Abyss;
A dread Eternity! how surely mine!
And can eternity belong to me,
Poor pensioner on the Bounties of an Hour?
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful, is Man?
How passing Wonder HE, who made him such?
Who centred in our Make such strange Extremes?
From diff'rent Natures marvelously mixt,
Connexion exquisite of distant Worlds!
Distinguisht Link in Being's endless Chain!
Midway from Nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sully'd, and absorpt!
Tho' sully'd, and dishonour'd, still Divine!
Dim Miniature of Greatness absolute!
An Heir of Glory! A frail Child of Dust!
Helpless immortal! Insect infinite!
A Worm! a God! I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost! At home a Stranger,
Thought wanders up and down, surpris'd, aghast,
Teach my best Reason, Reason; my best Will
Teach Rectitude; and fix my firm Resolve
Wisdom to wed, and pay her long Arrear:
Nor let the Phial of thy Vegeance, pour'd
On this devoted Head, be pour'd in vain.
The Bell strikes One. We take no Note of Time,
But from its Loss. To give it then a Tongue,
Is wise in Man. As if an Angel spoke,
I feel the solemn Sound. If heard aright,
It is the Knell of my departed Hours:
Where are they? With the Years beyond the Flood.
It is the Signal that demands Dispatch:
How much is to be done? My Hopes and Fears
Start up alarm'd, and o'er Life's narrow Verge
Look down—On what? A fathomless Abyss;
A dread Eternity! how surely mine!
And can eternity belong to me,
Poor pensioner on the Bounties of an Hour?
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful, is Man?
How passing Wonder HE, who made him such?
Who centred in our Make such strange Extremes?
From diff'rent Natures marvelously mixt,
Connexion exquisite of distant Worlds!
Distinguisht Link in Being's endless Chain!
Midway from Nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sully'd, and absorpt!
Tho' sully'd, and dishonour'd, still Divine!
Dim Miniature of Greatness absolute!
An Heir of Glory! A frail Child of Dust!
Helpless immortal! Insect infinite!
A Worm! a God! I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost! At home a Stranger,
Thought wanders up and down, surpris'd, aghast,
And
