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Nor press'd the nipple, strangled in life's porch.
his tale; And jovial youth, of lightsome vacant heart, Whose every-day was made of melody, Hears not the voice of mirth.—The shrill tongued
shrew, Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding. Here are the wise, the generous, and the brave; The just, the good, the worthless, and profane, The downright clown, and perfectly well-bred ; The fool, the churl, the scoundrel, and the mean; The supple statesman, and the patriot stern ; The wrecks of nations, and the spoils of time, With all the lumber of six thousand years.
Poor man !-how happy once in thy first state ! When yet but warm from thy great Maker's hand, He stamp'd thee with his image, and, well-pleas'd, Smild on his last fair work. Then all was well. Sound was the body, and the soul serene; Like two sweet instruments, ne'er out of tune, That play their several parts.-Nor head, nor
heart, Offer'd to ache: nor was there cause they should ; For all was pure within : no fell remorse, Nor anxious castings-up of what might be,
Alarm'd his peaceful bosom.-Summer seas
generous soil, with a luxurious hand, Offer'd the various produce of the year, And every thing most perfect in its kind. Blessed! thrice blessed days ! But ah! how short! Bless'd as the pleasing dreams of holy men; But fugitive like those, and quickly gone. Oh! slippery state of things.-What sudden turns ! What strange vicissitudes in the first leaf Of man's sad history !-To-day most happy, And ere to-morrow's sun has set, most abject. How scant the space between these vast extremes! Thus far'd it with our sire :-not long he enjoy'd His Paradise.-Scarce had the happy tenant Of the fair spot due time to prove its sweets, Or sum them up, when straight he must be gone Ne'er to return again. And must he go? Can nought compound for the first dire offence Of erring man ?--Like one that is condemn'd, Fain would he trifle time with idle talk, And parley with his fate.—But 'tis in vain. Not all the lavish odours of the place, Offer'd in incense, can procure his pardon, Or mitigate his doom.-A mighty angel, With flaming sword, forbids his longer stay, And drives the loiterer forth; nor must he take One last and farewell round. At once he lost His glory, and his God.-If mortal now, And sorely maim'd, no wonder.-Man has sinn'd. Sick of his bliss, and bent on new adventures, Evil he would needs try: nor tried in vain.
(Dreadful experiment! destructive measure !
What havoc hast thou made, foul monster, Sin
-But for thee Sorrow had never been.-All noxious thing, Of vilest nature !--Other sorts of evils Are kindly circumscrib'd, and have their bounds. The fierce volcano, from his burning entrails, That belches molten stone and globes of fire, Involv'd in pitchy clouds of smoke and stench, Mars the adjacent fields for some leagues round, And there it stops.- The big-swoln inundation, Of mischief more diffusive, raving loud, Buries whole tracts of country, threatening more; But that too has its shore it cannot pass. More dreadful far than those! Sin has laid waste, Not here and there a country, but a world: Despatching at a wide-extended blow Entire mankind; and, for their sakes, defacing
A whole creation's beauty with rude hands;
cover'd My father's nakedness, and nature's shame. Here let me pause, and drop an honest tear; One burst of filial duty and condolence, O’er all those ample deserts Death hath spread, This chaos of mankind.- great man-eater! Whose every day is carnival, not sated yet! Unheard-of epicure! without a fellow! The veriest gluttons do not always cram; Some intervals of abstinence are sought To edge the appetite: thou seekest none. Methinks the countless swarms thou hast devour'd, And thousands that each hour thou gobblest up, This, less than this, might gorge thee to the full. But, ah! rapacious still, thou gap’st for more: Like one, whole days defrauded of his meals,
On whom lank Hunger lays her skinny hand,
But know, that thou must render up thy dead,
having done, He mounted up to Heav'n.-Methinks I see him Climb the aërial heights, and glide along Athwart the severing clouds: but the faint eye, Flung backwards in the chase, soon drops its hold; Disabled quite, and jaded with pursuing. Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in !