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16 Too much for Heav'n to make one Emmet more? « Too much for Chaos to permit my Mass * A longer Stay with Essences unwrought, « Unfashion'd, untormented into Man? “ Wretched Preferment to this Round of Pains ! • Wretched Capacity of Frenzy, Thought! “ Wretched Capacity of Dying, Life!
Life, Thought, Worth, Wisdom, All (Oh foul Revoli ?) « Once Friends to Peace, gone over to the Foe.
“ Death, then, has chang'dits Nature too:( Death!) '• Come to my Bosom, Thoa best Gift of Heav'n! 66 Best Friend of Man! Since Man is Man no more, “ Why in this thorny Wilderness so long, “ Since there's no Promis'd Land's ambrosial Bow'r, “ To pay me with its Honey for my Stings? is If needful to the selfish Schemes of Heav'n “ To fting us fore, why mockt our Misery? " Why this fo fumptuous Infalt o'er our Heads? " Why this Illustrious Canopy display'd? " Why so magnificently lodg'd Depair ? “ At stated Periods, fure-returning, rowl “ These glorious Orbs, that Mortals may compute “ Their Length of Labours, and of Pains ; por lose • Their Misery's full Measure !-Smiles with Flow'rs;
And Fruits promiscuous, ever-teeming Earth, “ That Man may languish in luxurious Scenes, « And in an Eden mourn his with’ring Joys? “ Claim Earth and Skies Man's Admiration, due " For such Delights! Bleft Animals I too Wiso “ To wonder ; and too Happy to complain!
“ Our Doom decreed demands a mournful Scenco " Why not a Dungeon dark, for the Condemn'd? “ Why not the Dragon's subterranean Den, " For Man to howl inWhy not his Abode, es. Of the same dismal Colour with his Fate ? * A Thebes, a Babylon, at valt Expence
• Of Time, Toil, Treasure, Art, for Owls and Addera, “ As congruous, as, for Man, this lofty Dome, " Which prompts proud Thought, and kindles high
“ Desire, " If from her humble Chamber in the Dust, " While proud Thought swells, and high Defire in
“ flames, “ The poor Worm calls us for her Inmates there ; “ And, round us, Death's inexorable Hand • Draws the dark Curtain close ; undrawn no more.
“ Undrawn no more? Behind the Cloud of Deaths “ Once, I beheld a Sun; a Sun which gilt " That fable Cloud, and turn'd it all to Gold; “ How the Grave's aiter'd ? Fathomless, as Hell! « A real Hell to Those, who dreamt of Heav'n. “ ANNIHILATION ! How it yawns before me? “ Next Moment I may drop from Thought, from Senfi, “ The Privilege of Angels, and of Worms, “ An Outcast from Existence !. And this Spirit,, • This all-pervading, this all-conscious Soul, “ This Particle of Energy divine, “ Which travels Nature, flies from Star to Star,
And visits Gods, and emulates their Pow'rs, “For ever is extinguisht, Horror! Death! ** Death of that Death I fearless, once, survey'd. " When Horror Universal frall descend, ๕
And Heav'n's dark Concave urn all Human Race, « On that enormous, unrefunding Tomb, " How just this Verse ? this monumental Sigh!
Beneath the Lumber of demolisht Worlds,
Who liv'd in Terror, and in Pangs expir'd!
to rot in Chaos ; or, to make
Nor longer sully their CREA Tor's Name. LORENZO! hear, pause, ponder, and pronounce." Luft is this History? If such is Man, Mankind's Historian, tho’ Divine, might weep. And dares Lorenzo smile? I know thee Proud For once let Pride befriend thee ; Pride looks pale At such a Scene, and sighs for something more. Amid thy. Boasts, Prelumptions, and Displays, And art Thou then a Shadow ?, Less than Shade? A Nothing ? Less than Nothing ? To have been, And not to be, is lower than Unborn. Art thou ambitious ? Why then make the Worm. Thine Equal ? Runs thy Taste of Pleasure high? Why patronize sure Death of ev'ry Joy? Charm Riches? Why chuse Begg’ry in the Graveg: Of ev'ry Hope a Bankrupt ! and for ever? Life's Joy so rich, Thou can'ft not wish for more: Ambition, Pleasure, Avarice, persuade Thee To make that World of Glory, Rapture, Wealth They lately prov'd, thy Soul's supreme Defire.
WHAT art thou made of ? Rather, how Unmade :: Great Nature's Master appetite destroy'd ! Is endless Life, and Happiness, despis'd ? Or Both-wifht, Here, where Neither can be found ? Such Man's perverse, eternal War with Heav'n! Dar'it Thou perfift? And is there nought on Earth, But a long Train of transitory Forms, Rifing, and breaking, Millions in an Hour ? Bubbles of a fantastic Deity, blown up In Sport, and then in Cruelty destroy'd ? Oh! for what Crime, unmerciful LORENZO ! Destroys thy Scheme the Whole of human Race Kind is fell Lucifer compar'd to Thee:
Oh! spare this Waste of Being half divine ;
Heav'n is all Love ; all Joy in giving Joy;
Is That, all Nature starts at, thy Desire
Ir fo ; what Words are dark enough to draw
There's nought, Thou sayit, but one eternal Flux:
Amid such hourly Wrecks of Being fair,
An all-prolific, all-preserving God!.