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'Art thou a wretch of hope forlorn,
A victim of consuming care? Is thy distracted conscience torn
By fell despair?
'Do foul misdeeds of former times
Wring with remorse thy guilty breast? And ghosts of unforgiven crimes
Murder thy rest?
'Lash'd by the furies of the mind,
From wrath and vengeance wouldst thou flee? Ah! think not, hope not, fool! to find
A friend in me.
'By all the terrors of the tomb,
Beyond the power of tongue to tell!
By the dread secrets of my womb!
By Death and Hell!
'I charge thee live !-repent and pray; In dust thine infamy deplore;
There yet is mercy;-go thy way,
And sin no more.
'Art thou a mourner? Hast thou known
The joy of innocent delights, Endearing days for ever flown,
And tranquil nights?
'O live! and deeply cherish still The sweet remembrance of the past: Rely on Heaven's unchanging will
For peace at last:
'Art thou a wanderer? Hast thou seen O'erwhelming tempests drown thy bark? A shipwreck'd sufferer hast thou been,
'Though long of winds and waves the sport,
'To Friendship didst thou trust thy fame,
'Live! and repine not o'er his loss,
For Friendship's gold.
'Seek the true treasure, seldom found,
'Did Woman's charms thy youth beguile,
'Live! "Twas a false bewildering fire:
Thrills the fond soul with wild desire,
But kills the heart.
'Thou yet shalt know how sweet, how dear
A nobler flame shall warm thy breast,
'Whate'er thy lot,-whoe'er thou be,-
The hand of God.
'A bruised reed he will not break;
'Humbled beneath his mighty hand,
'Now, traveller in this vale of tears!
'There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found;
The Soul of origin divine,
God's glorious image freed from clay, In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, A star of day!
The sun is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky; The Soul, immortal as its Sire,
Shall never die.'
WHEN coldness wraps the suffering clay, Ah, whither strays the' immortal mind? It cannot die, it cannot stay,
But leaves its darken'd dust behind. Then, unimbodied, doth it trace
By steps each planet's heavenly way? Or fill at once the realms of space, A thing of eyes, that all survey?
Eternal, boundless, undecay'd,
A thought unseen, but seeing all,
Before Creation peopled earth,
Its eye shall roll through chaos back; And where the furthest heaven had birth, The spirit trace its rising track. And where the future mars or makes,
Its glance dilate o'er all to be,
Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear,
Away, away, without a wing,
O'er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing,
Forgetting what it was to die.
Tell us, ye dead, will none of you in pity
RISE, Spectres, rise! some pitying ghost appear,