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With thrones ethereal, and their greater far ;;
A joy high-privileg'd from chance, time, death!
Ajoy, which death shall double, judgment crown!
Crown'd higher, and still higher, at each stage,
Thro' blest eternity's long day; yet still,
Not more remote from sorrow, than from Him,
Whose lavish hand, whose love stupendous, pours
So much of Deity on guilty dust.
There, O my Lucia! may I meet thee there,
Where not thy presence can improve my bliss !
Affects not this the sages of the world ?
Can nought affect them, but what fools them too?
Eternity, depending on an hour,
Makes serious thought man's wisdom, joy, and praise,
Nor need you blush (tho' sometimes your designs
May shun the light) at your designs on heaven:
Sole point where over-bashful is your blame.
Are you not wise?-You know you are: Yet hear
One truth, amid your num'rous schemes, mislaid,
Or overlook’d, or thrown aside, if seen;
“ Our schemes to plan by this world, or the next,
“ Is the sole difference between wise and fool."
All worthy men will weigh you in this scale ;
What wonder then, if they pronounce you light ?
Is their esteem alone not worth your care ?
Accept my simple scheme of common sense :
Thus, save your fame, and make two worlds your o
The world replies not ;-but the world persists ;
And puts the cause off to the longest day,
Planning evasions for the day of doom.
So far, at that re-hearing, from redress,
They then turn witnesses against themselves, .
Hear that, LORENZO! Nor be wise to-morrow.
Haste, hastę! A man, by nature, is in haste;
For who shall answer for another hour?
'Tis highly prudent, to make one sure friend;
And that thou canst not do, this side the skies.
Ye sons of earth! (nor willing to be more !)
Since verse you think from priestcraft somewhat free,
Thus, in an age so gay, the muse plain truths
(Truths, which, at church, you might have heard in prose)
Has ventur'd into light; well-pleas'd the verse
Should be forgot, if you the truths retain ;
And crown her with your welfare, not your praise.
But praise she need not fear: I see my fate;
And headlong leap, like Curtius, down the gulph.
Since 'many an ample volume, mighty tome,
Must die; and die unwept; O thou minute
Devoted page! go forth among thy foes;
Go, nobly proud of martyrdom for truth,
And die a double death : Mankind incens'd,
Denies thee long to live: Nor shalt thou rest,
When thou art dead ; in Stygian shades arraign'd
By LUCIFER, as traitor to his throne;
And bold blasphemer of his friend,—the WORLD; .
The WORLD, whose legions cost him slender pay,
And volunteers, around his banner swarm;
Prudent, as PRUSSIA, in her zeal for Gaul.
“ Are all, then, fools ?” LORENZO cries.--Yes, all, But such as hold this doctrine (new to thee);
“ The mother of true wisdom is the will;"
The noblest intellect, a fool without it.
World-wisdom much has done, and more may do,
In arts and sciences, in wars, and peace;
But art and science, like thy wealth, will leave thee,
And make thee twice a beggar at thy death.
This is the most indulgence can afford ;----
“ Thy wisdom all can do, but-make thee wise."
Nor think this censure is severe on thee;
Şatan, thy master, I dere call a dunce.