And let her prophefy be foon fulfil'd;

Fate! drop the curtain; I can lofe no more.

Silence, and Darkness! folemn fifters! twins From ancient Night, who nurfe the tender thought To Reason, and on Reafon build Refolve (That column of true majefty in man) Affift me: I will thank you in the grave;

The grave, your kingdom: There this frame fhall fal
A victim facred to your dreary fhrine.

But what are ye? THOU, who didft put to flight
Primeval Silence, when the morning stars
Exulting, fhouted o'er the rising ball;

O THOU ! whose word from flid Darkness ftruck
That fpark, the fun; ftrike wifdom from my foul;
My foul which flies to thee, her truft, her treasure,
As mifers to the gold, while others reft.

Thro' this opaque of Nature and of Soul,
This double night, tranfmit one pitying ray,
To lighten, and to chear. O lead my mind,
(A mind that fain would wander from its woe)
Lead it thro' various fcenes of Life, and Death,
And from each scene, the noblest truths inspire.
Nor less inspire my Conduct than my Sɔng;
Teach my beft reason, reafon my best will,
Teach rectitude; and fix my firm refolve
Wisdom to wed, and pay her long arrear.
Nor let the vial of thy vengeance pour'd
On this devoted head be pour'd in vain.

The bell ftrikes One. We take no note of time,
But from its lofs. To give it then a tongue,
Is wife in man. As if an angel fpoke,

I feel the folemn found. 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 inuch 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 abyfs;
A dread eternity! how furely Mine?
And can eternity belong to me,

Poor penfioner on the bounties of an hour?

How poor? how rich? how abje&t? how august ?

How complicate? how wonderful is man?
How paffing wonder HE, who made him fuch?
Who center'd in our make fich ftrange extremes?
From different natures marvelously mixt,
Connection exquifite of diftant worlds!
Diftinguifht Link in being's endless chain!
Midway from Nothing to the Deity!
A beam etherial fully'd, and abfport!
Tho' fully'd, and dishonour'd, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatnefs abfolute !
An heir of glory! a frail child of duft!
Helpless immortal! infe&t infinite!

A worm a god!-I tremble at myself,
And in myfelf am 1ft! At home a ftranger,
Thought wanders up and down, furpriz'd, aghaft,
And wond'ring at her own: how reafon reels?
what a miracle to man is man,

Triumphantly diftrefs'd! what joy, what dread!
Alternately transported, and alarm'd!

What can preferve my life? or what deftroy?
An angel's arm can't fnatch me from the grave:
Legions of angels can't confine me there.

"Tis paft conjecture; all things rife in proof: While o'er my limbs Sleep's fift dominion spread, What. tho' my foul phantaftic measures trod, O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom Of pathlefs woods; or down the craggy fteep Hul'd headlong, fwam with pain the man led pool; Or fcal'd the cliff; or danc'd on hollow winds, With antic thapes, wild natives of the brain? Her ceafelcfs flight, tho' devious, fpeaks her nature Of fubtler effence than the trodden clod; Active, aerial, tow'ring, unconfin'd, Unfetter'd with her grofs companion's fall: Er'n filent night proclaims my foul Immortal: Ev'n filent night proclaims eternal day : For human weal, heav'n hufbands all events, Dull fleep inftructs, nor fport vain dreams in vain. Why then Their lofs deplore, that are not loft; Why wander wretched thoughts their tombs around, In infidel diftrefs? Are Angels there? Slumbers, rak'd up in duft etherial fire ?

They live they greatly live a life on earth
Unkindl'd, unconceiv'd; and from an eye
Of tenderness, let heav'nly pity fall

On me, more justly number'd with the dead.
This is the defart, This the folitude:
How populous! how vital, is the grave!
This is creation's melancholy vault,
The vale funeral, the fad Cypress gloom;
The land of apparitions, empty shades!
All, all on earth is Shadow, all beyond
Is Subitance; the reverfe is folly's Creed:
How folid all, where change fhall be no more !
This is the bud of being, the dim dawn,
The twilight of our day, the veffibule;
Life's theatre as yet is thut, and death,
Strong death alone can heave the maffy bar,
This grofs impediment of clay remove,
And make us embryos of existence, free.
From Real life, but little more remote
Is He, not yet a candidate for light,
The Future embryo, flumbering in his fire.
Embryos we muft be, till we burft the fhell,
Yon ambient, azure shell, and fpring to life.
The life of gods ; O tranfport! and of man.

Yet man, fool man! Here buries all his thoughts; Inters celeftial hopes without one figh;

Prifoner of earth and pent beneath the moon,
Here pinions all his wifhes; wing'd by heaven
To fly an infinite; and reach it there,

Where Seraphs gather immortality,

On life's fair tree, faft by the throne of God:
What golden joys ambrofial cluft'ring glow

In His full beam, and ripen for the juft,

Where momentary ages are no more?

Where time and pain, and chance and death expire ?
And is it in the flight of threescore years,
To push eternity from human thought,
And fmother fouls immortal in the duft?
A foul immortal fpending all her fires,
Wafting her ftrength in ftrenuous idleness,
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd,
At aught this scene can threaten, or indulge,

Refembles Ocean into tempeft wrought,
To waft a feather or to drown a fly.

Where falls this cenfure? It o'erwhelms myself,
How was my heart incrufted by the world!
O how felf-fetter'd was my groveling foul!
How like a worm was I wrapt round and round
In filken thought, with reptile Fancy fpun,
Till darken'd Reafon lay quite clouded o'er
With foft conceit of endless comfort Here,
Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the kies?
Night-vifions may befriend, (as fung above)
Our Waking dreams are fatal: how I dreamt
Of things impoffible? (could sleep do more?)
Or joys perpetual in perpetual change?
Of ftable pleasures on the toffing wave?
Eternal funfhine in the ftorms of life?
How richly were my noon-tide trances hung
With gorgeous tapestries of pictur'd joys?
Joy behind joy, in endless perspective!
Till at death's toll, whofe reft lefs iron tongue
Calls daily for his millions at a meal,
Starting I woke and found myself undone.
Where now my frenzy's pompous furniture!
The Cobweb'd cottage with its ragged wall
Of mould'ring mud, is Royalty to me!
The Spider's attenuated thread

Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie
On earthly blifs; it breaks at every breeze.
O ye bleft scenes of Permanent delight!
Full, above meafure! lafting beyond bound
A Perpetuity of blits, is blifs.

Could you,

fo rich in rapture, fear an end, That ghaftly thought would drink up all your joy, And quite unparadife the realms of light.

Safe are you lodg'd above these rowling spheres; "I he baleful influence of whofe giddy dance

Sheds fad viciffitude on all beneath.

Here teems with revolutions every hour;
And rarely for the better; or the best,
More mortal than the common births of fate.
Each Moment has its fickle, emulous

Of Time's enormous fcythe, whofe ample sweep

They live' Dey greatly live a life or
U-kineld, unconceiv'd; and from a
Of tenderness, let heav'nly pity fall
Os me, more fudly number'd with th
This is the court, This the folitude :
How populous how vital, is the gra
This is creation's melancholy vault,

The vale funeral, the fid Cypress gle
The land of apparitions, empty shace
All, all or earth is Shadow, all beyor
Is Substance; the reverfe is folly's C
How folid all, where change fail be

This is the bad of being, the dim
The twilight of our day, the vetfibul
It's theatre as yet is thut, and deat
Strong death alone can heave the maf
This greis impediment of clay remos
And mike us embryos of existence, i
From Real life, bet little more remo
Is He, not yet a candidate for light,
The Future embryo, flumbering in I
Embryos we must be, till we burft t
Yon ambient, azure thell, and sprin.
The life of gods; O tranfport! and

Yet mar, fool man! Hère buries
Irters celestial hopes without one fig
Prisoner of earth and pent beneath th
Here pinions all his withes; wing'd
To fly an infinite; and reach it there
Where Seraphs gather immortality,
On life's fair tree, faft by the throne
What golden joys ambrofial cluft'ring
In His full beam, and ripen for the
Where momentary ages are no more
Where time and rain, and chance a
And is it in the flight of threefcore:
To puth eternity from human thougi
And fmother fouls immortal in the
A foul immortal spending all her fir
Wafting her ftrength in ftrenuous idi
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or al
At aught this fcene can threaten, or,

Manent plays