Part 15 (1/2)

Thus with the G.o.ds debate began, On such a trivial cause as Man.

And can celestial tempers rage?

(Quoth Virgil in a later age.)

As thus they wrangled, Time came by; (There's none that paint him such as I, 50 For what the fabling ancients sung Makes Saturn old, when Time was young.) As yet his winters had not shed Their silver honours on his head; He just had got his pinions free From his old sire Eternity.

A serpent girdled round he wore, The tail within the mouth before; By which our almanacs are clear That learned Egypt meant the year. 60 A staff he carried, where on high A gla.s.s was fix'd to measure by, As amber boxes made a show For heads of canes an age ago.

His vest, for day and night, was pied, A bending sickle arm'd his side, And Spring's new months his train adorn; The other Seasons were unborn.

Known by the G.o.ds, as near he draws, They make him umpire of the cause. 70 O'er a low trunk his arm he laid, (Where since his Hours a dial made;) Then, leaning, heard the nice debate, And thus p.r.o.nounced the words of Fate:

Since Body from the parent Earth, And Soul from Jove received a birth, Return they where they first began; But since their union makes the Man, Till Jove and Earth shall part these two, To Care, who join'd them, Man is due. 80

He said, and sprung with swift career To trace a circle for the year, Where ever since the Seasons wheel, And tread on one another's heel.

'Tis well, said Jove, and for consent Thundering he shook the firmament; Our umpire Time shall have his way, With Care I let the creature stay: Let business vex him, avarice blind, Let doubt and knowledge rack his mind, 90 Let error act, opinion speak, And want afflict, and sickness break, And anger burn, dejection chill, And joy distract, and sorrow kill, Till, arm'd by Care, and taught to mow, Time draws the long destructive blow; And wasted Man, whose quick decay, Comes hurrying on before his day, Shall only find, by this decree, The Soul flies sooner back to me. 100

AN IMITATION OF SOME FRENCH VERSES.

Relentless Time! destroying power Whom stone and bra.s.s obey, Who giv'st to every flying hour To work some new decay; Unheard, unheeded, and unseen, Thy secret saps prevail, And ruin Man, a nice machine By Nature form'd to fail.

My change arrives; the change I meet, Before I thought it nigh. 10 My spring, my years of pleasure fleet, And all their beauties die.

In age I search, and only find A poor unfruitful gain, Grave Wisdom stalking slow behind, Oppress'd with loads of pain.

My ignorance could once beguile, And fancied joys inspire; My errors cherish'd hope to smile On newly-born desire. 20 But now experience shows the bliss, For which I fondly sought, Not worth the long impatient wish, And ardour of the thought.

My youth met Fortune fair array'd; In all her pomp she shone, And might perhaps have well essay'd To make her gifts my own: But when I saw the blessings shower On some unworthy mind, 30 I left the chase, and own'd the power Was justly painted blind.

I pa.s.s'd the glories which adorn The splendid courts of kings, And while the persons moved my scorn.

I rose to scorn the things.

My manhood felt a vigorous fire, By love increased the more; But years with coming years conspire To break the chains I wore. 40 In weakness safe, the s.e.x I see With idle l.u.s.tre s.h.i.+ne; For what are all their joys to me, Which cannot now be mine?

But hold--I feel my gout decrease, My troubles laid to rest, And truths which would disturb my peace, Are painful truths at best.

Vainly the time I have to roll In sad reflection flies; 50 Ye fondling pa.s.sions of my soul!

Ye sweet deceits! arise.

I wisely change the scene within, To things that used to please; In pain, philosophy is spleen, In health, 'tis only ease.

A NIGHT-PIECE ON DEATH.

By the blue taper's trembling light, No more I waste the wakeful night, Intent with endless view to pore The schoolmen and the sages o'er: Their books from wisdom widely stray, Or point at best the longest way.

I'll seek a readier path, and go Where wisdom's surely taught below.

How deep yon azure dyes the sky, Where orbs of gold unnumber'd lie, 10 While through their ranks in silver pride The nether crescent seems to glide!

The slumbering breeze forgets to breathe, The lake is smooth and clear beneath, Where once again the spangled show Descends to meet our eyes below.

The grounds which on the right aspire, In dimness from the view retire: The left presents a place of graves, Whose wall the silent water laves. 20 That steeple guides thy doubtful sight, Among the livid gleams of night.

There pa.s.s, with melancholy state, By all the solemn heaps of fate, And think, as softly-sad you tread Above the venerable dead, 'Time was, like thee they life possess'd, And time shall be, that thou shalt rest.'

Those graves, with bending osier bound, That nameless heave the crumbled ground, 30 Quick to the glancing thought disclose Where Toil and Poverty repose.