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The Complaint.
Night 4.
Like a Bird struggling to get loose, is going;
Scarce now possess'd, so suddenly 'tis gone;
And each swift Moment fled, is Death advanc'd
By Strides as swift: Eternity is All;
And whole Eternity? Who triumphs there?
Bathing for ever in the Font of Bliss!
For ever basking in the Deity!
Lorenzo! who?-Thy Conscience shall reply.
O give it Leave to speak; 'twill speak ere long,
Thy Leave unaskt: Lorenzo! hear it now, IT
While useful its Advice, its Accent mild.
By the great Edict, the Divine Decree,
Truth is deposited with Man's last Hour;
An honest Hour, and faithful to her Trust;
Truth, eldest Daughter of the Deity:
Truth, of his Council, when he made the Worlds
Nor less, when he shall judge the Worlds he made,
Tho' silent long, and sleeping ne'er so sound,
Smother'd with Errors, and opprest with Toys,
That Heav'n-commission'd Hour no sooner calls,
But from her Cavern in the Soul's Abyss,
Like him they fable under Etna whelm'd,
The Goddess bursts in Thunder, and in Flame;
Loudly convinces, and severely pains.
Dark Demons I discharge, and Hydra-slings;
The keen Vibration of bright Truth-is Hell:
Just Definition! tho' by Schools untaught.
Ye Deaf to Truth! peruse this Parson'd Page,
And trust, for once, a Prophet, and a Priest;
"Men may live Fools, but Fools they cannot die."
Scarce now possess'd, so suddenly 'tis gone;
And each swift Moment fled, is Death advanc'd
By Strides as swift: Eternity is All;
And whole Eternity? Who triumphs there?
Bathing for ever in the Font of Bliss!
For ever basking in the Deity!
Lorenzo! who?-Thy Conscience shall reply.
O give it Leave to speak; 'twill speak ere long,
Thy Leave unaskt: Lorenzo! hear it now, IT
While useful its Advice, its Accent mild.
By the great Edict, the Divine Decree,
Truth is deposited with Man's last Hour;
An honest Hour, and faithful to her Trust;
Truth, eldest Daughter of the Deity:
Truth, of his Council, when he made the Worlds
Nor less, when he shall judge the Worlds he made,
Tho' silent long, and sleeping ne'er so sound,
Smother'd with Errors, and opprest with Toys,
That Heav'n-commission'd Hour no sooner calls,
But from her Cavern in the Soul's Abyss,
Like him they fable under Etna whelm'd,
The Goddess bursts in Thunder, and in Flame;
Loudly convinces, and severely pains.
Dark Demons I discharge, and Hydra-slings;
The keen Vibration of bright Truth-is Hell:
Just Definition! tho' by Schools untaught.
Ye Deaf to Truth! peruse this Parson'd Page,
And trust, for once, a Prophet, and a Priest;
"Men may live Fools, but Fools they cannot die."
NIGHT
