And all our ecstasies are wounds to peace; And since thy peace is dear, ambitious youth! of fortune fond! as thoughtless of thy fate! As late I drew Death's picture, to stir up Thy wholesome fears;' now, drawn in contrast, see Gay Fortune's, thy vain hopes to reprimand. See, high in air, the sportive goddess hangs, Unlocks her casket, spreads her glittering ware, And calls the giddy winds to puff abroad Her random bounties o'er the gaping throng. All rush rapacious; friends o'er trodden friends; Sons o'er their fathers; subjects o'er their kings; Priests o'er their gods; and lovers o'er the fair, (Still more ador'd,) to snatch the golden shower. Gold glitters most, where virtue shines no more; As stars from absent suns have leave to shine. O what a precious pack of votaries Unkennel'd from the prisons, and the stews, Pour in, all opening in their idol's praise; All, ardent, eye each wafture of her hand, And, wide expanding their voracious jaws, Morsel on morsel swallow down unchew'd, Untasted, through mad appetite for more; Gorg'd to the throat, yet lean and ravenous still. Sagacious all, to trace the smallest game, And bold to seize the greatest. If (blest chance!) Court-zephyrs sweetly breathe, they lanch, they fly, O'er just, o'er sacred, all-forbidden ground, Drunk with the burning scent of place or power, Stanch to the foot of lucre, till they die. Or, if for men you take them, as I mark Their manners, thou their various fates survey. Loud croaks the raven of the law, and smiles: Smiles too the goddess; but smiles most at those, (Just victims of exorbitant desire!) Who perish at their own request, and, whelm'd And Death's approach (if orthodox my song) Which nods aloft, and proudly spreads her shade, Or near Heaven's Archer, in the zodiac, hung, To guide the gay through life's tempestuous wave; Can fancy form more finisht happiness? Fixt was the nuptial hour. Her stately dome The glittering spires Float in the wave, and break against the shore: So break those glittering shadows, human joys. The faithless morning smil'd: he takes his leave, To re-embrace, in ecstasies, at eve. The rising storm forbids. The news arrives: Untold, she saw it in her servant's eye. She felt it seen (her heart was apt to feel); And the rough sailor, passing, drops a tear; A tear? - Can tears suffice? But not for me. How vain our efforts! and our arts how vain! Or ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace Survive myself?· Narcissa lives; Philander is forgot. O the soft commerce! O the tender ties, NIGHT THE SIXTH. THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. IN TWO PARTS. Containing the Nature, Proof, and Importance, of Immortality. PART I. Where, among other Things, Glory and Riches are particularly considered. TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM, FIRST LORD COMMISSIONER OF THE TREASURY, AND CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. Preface. Few ages have been deeper in dispute about religion than this. The dispute about religion, and the practice of it, seldom go together. The shorter, therefore, the dispute, the better. I think it may be reduced to this single question, Is man immortal, or is he not? If he is not, all our disputes are mere amusements, or trials of skill. In this case, truth, reason, religion, which give our discourses such pomp and solemnity, are (as will be shown) mere empty sound, without any meaning in them. But if man is immortal, it will behove him to be very serious about eternal consequences; or, in other words, to be truly religious. And this great fundamental truth, unestablished, or unawakened in the minds of men, is, I conceive, the real source and support of all our infidelity; how remote soever the particular objections advanced may seem to be from it. AAS |