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CONTAINING, AMONG OTHER THINGS, I. A MORAL SURVEY OF THE NOCTURNAL HEAVENS.
II. A NIGHT ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.
TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.
Fatis contraria fata rependens.
As when a traveller, a long day pass'd
10 Warn'd by the languor of life's evening ray, At length have housed me in an humble shed, Whero, future wandering banish'd from my thought, And waiting, patient, the sweet hour of rest, I chase the moments with a serious song.
15 Song sooths our pains, and age has pains to sooth.. · When age, care,crime, and friends embraced at heart,
Torn from my bleeding breast, and death's dark shade,
Has not the Muse asserted pleasures pure,
35 in mind are covetous of more disease ; And, when at worst, they dream themselves quite well. To know ourselves diseased is half our cure. When Nature's blush by custom is wiped off, And Conscience, deadend by repeated strokes, 40 Has into manners naturalized our crimes, The curse of curses is our curse to love; To tạiumph in the blackness of our guilt (As Indians glory in the deepest jet) And throw aside our senses with our peace.
But, grant no guilt, no shame, no least alloy;
Where the prime actors of the last year's scene ; Thoir port so proud, their buskin, and their plume ? How many sleep, who kept the world awake With lustre and with noise ! Has Death proclaim'd A truce, and hung his sated lance on high? 'Tis brandish'd still, nor shall the present year Be more tenacious of lier human leaf, Or spread, of feeble life, a thinner fall.
But needless monuments to wake the thought;
Profess'd diversions! cannot these escape.
What all the pomps and triumphs of our lives
85 from friends interr'd beneath, & rich manure? Like other worms, we banquet on the dead ; Like other worms, shall we crawl on, nor know Our present frailties, or approaching fate?
Lorenzo! sucha the glories of the world!
Froin numan mould we reap our daily bread.
But, O Lorenzo !-far the rest above, Of ghastly nature, and enormous size,
125 One form assaults my sight, and chills my blood, And shakes my frame. Of one departed World I see the mighty shadow: oozy wreath And dismal sea-weed crown her: o'er her urn Reclined, she weeps her desolated realms, 130 And bloated sons; and, weeping; prophosies
Another's dissolution, soon, in flames :
For, know'st thou not, or art thou loath to know,
140 In mutual conflict would they rise, and wage Eternal war, till one was quite devour'd. But not for this ordain'd their boundless raga When Heaven's inferior instruments of w72.., War, famine, pestilence, are und too weak 145 To scourge a world for her e inmous crimes, These are let loose alternate : down they rush, Swift and tempestuous, from the eternal throne, With irresistible commission arna'd, The world, in vain corrected, to destroy i
150 And ease Creation of the shocking scene.
Seest thou, Lorenzo! what depends on man? The fate of Nature, as for man her birth. Earth's actors change Earth’s transitory scenes, And make Creation groan with human guilt. 155 How must it groan, in a new deluge whelm'd, But not of waters! At the destined hour, By the loud trumpet summond to the charge, See all the forinidable sons of fire, Eruptions, earthquakes, comets, lightnings, play 160 Their various engines : all at once disgorge Their blezing magazines ; and take, by storm, This poor terrestrial citadel of
Amazing period ! when each mountain height Oatburns Vesuvius; rocks eternal pour
165 Their melted mass, as rivers once they pour'd; Stars rush, and final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er Creation !--while aloft, More than astonishment : if inore can be!