The Poetical Works of Elijah Fenton/An Ode. What art thou, Life! &c.
AN ODE.
I.
What art thou, Life! whose stay we court?
What is thy rival Death, we fear?
Since we 're but fickle Fortune's sport,
Why should we wish t' inhabit here,
And think the race we find so rough too short? 5
What art thou, Life! whose stay we court?
What is thy rival Death, we fear?
Since we 're but fickle Fortune's sport,
Why should we wish t' inhabit here,
And think the race we find so rough too short? 5
II.
While in the womb we forming lie,
While yet the lamp of life displays
A doubtful dawn with feeble rays,
New issuing from Non-entity,
The shell of flesh pollutes with sin 10
Its gem, the soul, just enter'd in,
And, by transmitted vice defil'd,
The fiend commences with the child.
While in the womb we forming lie,
While yet the lamp of life displays
A doubtful dawn with feeble rays,
New issuing from Non-entity,
The shell of flesh pollutes with sin 10
Its gem, the soul, just enter'd in,
And, by transmitted vice defil'd,
The fiend commences with the child.
III.
In this dark region future fates are bred,
And mines of secret ruin laid. 15
Hot fevers here long kindling lie,
Prepar'd with flaming whips to rage,
And lash on ling'ring destiny,
Whene'er excess has fir'd our riper age.
Here brood, in infancy, the gout and stone, 20
Fruits of our fathers' follies, not our own.
Ev'n with our nourishment we death receive;
For here our guiltless mothers give
Poison for food when first we live.
Hence noisome humours[1] sweat thro' ev'ry pore, 25
And blot us with an undistinguish'd sore:
Nor, mov'd with beauty, will the dire disease
Forbear on faultless forms to seize;
But vindicates the good, the gay,
The wife, the young, its common prey. 30
Had all, conjoin'd in one, had pow'r to save,
The Muses had not wept o'er Blandford's grave.
In this dark region future fates are bred,
And mines of secret ruin laid. 15
Hot fevers here long kindling lie,
Prepar'd with flaming whips to rage,
And lash on ling'ring destiny,
Whene'er excess has fir'd our riper age.
Here brood, in infancy, the gout and stone, 20
Fruits of our fathers' follies, not our own.
Ev'n with our nourishment we death receive;
For here our guiltless mothers give
Poison for food when first we live.
Hence noisome humours[1] sweat thro' ev'ry pore, 25
And blot us with an undistinguish'd sore:
Nor, mov'd with beauty, will the dire disease
Forbear on faultless forms to seize;
But vindicates the good, the gay,
The wife, the young, its common prey. 30
Had all, conjoin'd in one, had pow'r to save,
The Muses had not wept o'er Blandford's grave.
IV.
The spark of pure ethereal light
That actuates this fleeting frame,
Darts thro' the cloud of flesh a sickly flame, 35
And seems a glow-worm in a winter-night.
But man would yet look wondrous wise,
And equal chains of thought devise;
Intends his mind on mighty schemes,
Refutes, defines, confirms, declaims; 40
And diagrams he draws, t' explain
The learn'd chimeras of his brain;
And, with imaginary wisdom proud,
Thinks on the goddess while he clips the cloud.
The spark of pure ethereal light
That actuates this fleeting frame,
Darts thro' the cloud of flesh a sickly flame, 35
And seems a glow-worm in a winter-night.
But man would yet look wondrous wise,
And equal chains of thought devise;
Intends his mind on mighty schemes,
Refutes, defines, confirms, declaims; 40
And diagrams he draws, t' explain
The learn'd chimeras of his brain;
And, with imaginary wisdom proud,
Thinks on the goddess while he clips the cloud.
V.
Thro' Error's mazy-grove, with fruitless toil, 45
Perplex'd with puzzling doubts, we roam;
False images our sight beguile,
But still we stumble thro' the gloom,
And Science seek, which still deludes the mind.
Yet, more enamour'd with the race, 50
With disproportion'd speed we urge the chase:
In vain! the various prey no bounds restrain;
Fleeting, it only leaves, t' increase our pain,
A cold unsatisfying scent behind.
Thro' Error's mazy-grove, with fruitless toil, 45
Perplex'd with puzzling doubts, we roam;
False images our sight beguile,
But still we stumble thro' the gloom,
And Science seek, which still deludes the mind.
Yet, more enamour'd with the race, 50
With disproportion'd speed we urge the chase:
In vain! the various prey no bounds restrain;
Fleeting, it only leaves, t' increase our pain,
A cold unsatisfying scent behind.
VI.
Yet, gracious God! presumptuous man, 55
With random guesses, makes pretence
To sound thy searchless providence,
From which he first began:
Like hooded hawks we blindly tow'r,
And circumscribe, with fancy'd laws, thy pow'r. 60
Thy will the rolling orbs obey;
The moon, presiding o'er the sea,
Governs the waves with equal sway:
But man, perverse, and lawless still,
Boldly runs counter to thy will; 65
Thy patient thunder he defies,
Lays down false principles, and moves
By what his vicious choice approves,
And when he's vainly wicked thinks he's wise.
Yet, gracious God! presumptuous man, 55
With random guesses, makes pretence
To sound thy searchless providence,
From which he first began:
Like hooded hawks we blindly tow'r,
And circumscribe, with fancy'd laws, thy pow'r. 60
Thy will the rolling orbs obey;
The moon, presiding o'er the sea,
Governs the waves with equal sway:
But man, perverse, and lawless still,
Boldly runs counter to thy will; 65
Thy patient thunder he defies,
Lays down false principles, and moves
By what his vicious choice approves,
And when he's vainly wicked thinks he's wise.
VII.
Return, return, too long misled! 70
With filial fear adore thy God:
Ere the vast deep of heav'n was spread,
Or body first in space abode,
Glories ineffable adorn'd his head.
Unnumber'd seraphs round the burning throne 75
Sung to th' incomprehensible Three-One:
Yet then his clemency did please
With lower forms t' augment his train,
And made thee, wretched creature, Man!
Probationer of happiness. 80
Return, return, too long misled! 70
With filial fear adore thy God:
Ere the vast deep of heav'n was spread,
Or body first in space abode,
Glories ineffable adorn'd his head.
Unnumber'd seraphs round the burning throne 75
Sung to th' incomprehensible Three-One:
Yet then his clemency did please
With lower forms t' augment his train,
And made thee, wretched creature, Man!
Probationer of happiness. 80
VIII.
On the vast ocean of his wonders here,
We momentary bubbles ride,
Till, crush'd by the tempestuous tide,
Sunk in the parent flood we disappear:
We, who so gawdy on the waters shone, 85
Proud, like the show'ry bow, with beauties not our own.
On the vast ocean of his wonders here,
We momentary bubbles ride,
Till, crush'd by the tempestuous tide,
Sunk in the parent flood we disappear:
We, who so gawdy on the waters shone, 85
Proud, like the show'ry bow, with beauties not our own.
IX.
But, at the signal giv'n, this earth and sea
Shall set their sleeping vassals free,
And the belov'd of God,
The faithful and the just, 90
Like Aaron's chosen rod,
Tho' dry, shall blossom in the dust:
Then, gladly bounding from their dark restraints,
The skeletons shall brighten into saints,
And, from mortality refin'd, shall rise 95
To meet their Saviour coming in the skies.
Instructed then by intuition, we
Shall the vain efforts of our wisdom see;
Shall then impartially confess
Our demonstration was but guess; 100
That knowledge, which from human reason flows;
Unless Religion guide its course,
And Faith her steady mounds oppose,
Is ignorance at best, and often worse. 104
But, at the signal giv'n, this earth and sea
Shall set their sleeping vassals free,
And the belov'd of God,
The faithful and the just, 90
Like Aaron's chosen rod,
Tho' dry, shall blossom in the dust:
Then, gladly bounding from their dark restraints,
The skeletons shall brighten into saints,
And, from mortality refin'd, shall rise 95
To meet their Saviour coming in the skies.
Instructed then by intuition, we
Shall the vain efforts of our wisdom see;
Shall then impartially confess
Our demonstration was but guess; 100
That knowledge, which from human reason flows;
Unless Religion guide its course,
And Faith her steady mounds oppose,
Is ignorance at best, and often worse. 104
- ↑ The small-pox.