NARCISSA.
49
A Moment, or Eternity's forgot.
Then be, what once they were, who now are Gods;
Be what Philander was, and claim the Skies.
Starts timid Nature at the gloomy Pass?
The soft Transition call it; and be chear'd:
Such it is often, and why not to Thee?
To hope the best is pious, brave, and wise,
And may itself procure, what it presumes.
Life is much flatter'd, Death is much traduc'd;
Compare the Rivals, and the kinder crown.
"Strange Competition!"—True, Lorenzo! Strange!
So Little Life can cast into the Scale.
Life makes the Soul dependent on the Dust;
Death gives her Wings to mount above the Spheres.
Thro' Chinks, styl'd Organs, dim Life peeps at Light;
Death bursts th' involving Cloud, and all is Day;
All Eye, all Ear, the disembody'd Power.
Death has feign'd Evils, Nature shall not feel;
Life, Ills substantial, Wisdom cannot shun.
Is not the mighty Mind, that Son of Heaven!
By Tyrant Life dethron'd, imprison'd, pain'd?
By Death inlarg'd, ennobled, deify'd?
Death but intombs the Body; Life the Soul.
"Is Death then guiltless? How he marks his Way
"With dreadful Waste of what deserves to thine!
"Art, Genius, Fortune, elevated Power!
"With various Lustres These light up the World,
"Which Death puts out, and darkens human Race."
I grant, Lorenzo! this Indictment just:
The Sage, Peer, Potentate, King, Conqueror!
Death humbles These; more barb'rous Life, the Man.
Life is the Triumph of our mould'ring Clay;
Death, of the Spirit infinite! divine!
Death has no Dread, but what frail Life imparts;
Nor Life true Joy, but what kind Death improves.
Then be, what once they were, who now are Gods;
Be what Philander was, and claim the Skies.
Starts timid Nature at the gloomy Pass?
The soft Transition call it; and be chear'd:
Such it is often, and why not to Thee?
To hope the best is pious, brave, and wise,
And may itself procure, what it presumes.
Life is much flatter'd, Death is much traduc'd;
Compare the Rivals, and the kinder crown.
"Strange Competition!"—True, Lorenzo! Strange!
So Little Life can cast into the Scale.
Life makes the Soul dependent on the Dust;
Death gives her Wings to mount above the Spheres.
Thro' Chinks, styl'd Organs, dim Life peeps at Light;
Death bursts th' involving Cloud, and all is Day;
All Eye, all Ear, the disembody'd Power.
Death has feign'd Evils, Nature shall not feel;
Life, Ills substantial, Wisdom cannot shun.
Is not the mighty Mind, that Son of Heaven!
By Tyrant Life dethron'd, imprison'd, pain'd?
By Death inlarg'd, ennobled, deify'd?
Death but intombs the Body; Life the Soul.
"Is Death then guiltless? How he marks his Way
"With dreadful Waste of what deserves to thine!
"Art, Genius, Fortune, elevated Power!
"With various Lustres These light up the World,
"Which Death puts out, and darkens human Race."
I grant, Lorenzo! this Indictment just:
The Sage, Peer, Potentate, King, Conqueror!
Death humbles These; more barb'rous Life, the Man.
Life is the Triumph of our mould'ring Clay;
Death, of the Spirit infinite! divine!
Death has no Dread, but what frail Life imparts;
Nor Life true Joy, but what kind Death improves.
No
