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NIGHT THE FIRST.
Life, Death, and Immortality.
To the RIGHT HONOURABLE
ARTHUR ONSLOW, Esq;
SPEAKER of the House of COMMONS.
IR'D Nature's sweet Reftorer, balmy Sleep!
Swift on his downy Pinion flies from Woc, And lights on Lids unsully'd with a Tear.
From short (as usual) and disturb'd Repose, I wake: How happy they, who wake no more ! Yet that were vain, if Dreams infest the Grave. I wake, emerging from a Sea of Dreams Tumultuous ; where my wreck'd, desponding Thought From Wave to Wave of fansy'd Misery, At random drove, her Helm of Reason loft. Tho' now restor', 'tis only Change of Pain, (A bitter Change !) feverer for severe. The Day too short for my Distress! and Night, Even in the Zenith of her dark Domain, Is Sunfhine, to the Colour of my Fate.
Night, fable Goddess ! from her Ebon Throne,
Silence, and Darkness! solemn Sisters ! Twins From antient Night, who nurse the tender Thought To Reason, and on Reason build Resolve, (That Column of true Majesty in Man) Aslift me : I will thank you in the Grave; The Grave, your Kingdom : Tbere this Frame shall fall A Victim sacred to your dreary Shrine. But what are ye? THOU, who didit put to Flight Primæval Silence, when the Morning-Stars, Exulting, Mouted o'er the rising Ball; O T'HOU! whose Word from folid Darkness struck That Spark, the Sun ; strike Wisdom from my Soul ; My Soul, which flies to thee, her Trust, her Treasure, As Misers to their Gold, while others reft.
Thro' this Opaque of Nature, and of Soul,
best Reason, Reason; my best Will Teach Reciitude ; and fix my firm Resolve Wisdom to wed, and pay her long Arrear : Nor let the Phial of thy Vengeance, pour'd On this devoted Head, be pour'd in vain.