« 前へ次へ »
Resistiess, not to be contrould, that guides, In solitude of unshared energies, All these thy ceaseless miracles, O world! Arm of the world, I view thee, and I muse On Man, who trusting in his mortal strength, Leans on a shadowy staff, a staff of dreams. We consecrate our total hopes and fears To idols, flesh and blood, our love, (heaven's due) Our praise and admiration; praise bestowed By man on man, and acts of worship done To a kindred nature, certes do reflect Some portion of the glory and rays oblique Upon the politic worshipper-so man Extracts a pride from his humility, Some braver spirits of the modern stamp Affect a Godhead nearer: these talk loud Of mind, and independant intellect, Of energies omnipotent in man, And man of his own fate artificer; Yea of his own life Lord, and of the days Of his abode on earth, when time shall be, That life immortal shall become an art, Or death, by chymic practices deceived, Forego the scent, which for six thousand years Like a good hound he has followed, or at length More manners learning, and a decent sense And reverence of a philosophic world, Relent, and leave to prey on carcasses. But these are fancies of a few: the rest, Atheists, or Deists only in the name, By word or deed deny a God. They eat
Their daily bread, and draw the breath of heaven
LINES INSCRIBED UPON A CUP FORMED FROM A SKULL.
START not-nor deem my spirit fled:
In me behold the only skull,
Whatever flows is never dull. ;.
I lived, I loved, I quaff’d, like thee;
I died; let earth my bones resign :
The worm hath fouler lips than thine.
Better to hold the sparkling grape
Than nurse the earth-worm's slimy brood;
The drink of Gods, than reptile's food.
Where once my wit, perchance hath shone,
In aid of others' let me shine;
What nobler substitute than wine!
Quaff while thou canst-another race,
When thou and thine like me are sped, May rescue thee from earth's embrace,
And rhyme and revel with the dead.
Why not? since through life's little day
Our heads such sad effects produce Redeemed from worms and wasting clay,
This chance is theirs, to be of use.
I'D MOURN THE HOPES THAT LEAVE ME.
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me,
If thy smile had left me too;
If thou wert, like them, untrue.
With heart so warm and eyes so bright,
That smile turns them all to light!
"Tis not in fate to harm me,
While fate leaves thy love to me, 'Tis not in joy to charm me,
Unless joy be shared with thee. One minute's dream about thee,
Were worth a long, an endless year, Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear!
And, tho' the hope be gone, love,
That long sparkled o'er our way, Oh! we shall journey on, love,
More safely, without its ray. Far better lights shall win me,
Along the path I've yet to roam, The mind, that burns within me, And pure smiles from thee at home.
Thus, when the lamp that lighted
The traveller, at first goes out, He feels awhile benighted,
And looks round with fear and doubt. But soon, the prospect clearing,
By cloudless star-light, on he treads, And thinks no lamp so cheering,
As that light which Heaven sheds !
AN EVENING WALK AT CROMER, 1793.
HAIL scene sublime! along the Eastern hills
* The lamps in Cromer light-hoise revolve.