"WHEN the cock crew, he wept"-smote by that eye, Which looks on me, on all: That pow'r, who bids This midnight centinel, with clarion shrill, Emblem of that which shall awake the dead, Rouse souls from slumber, into thoughts of Heav'n. Shall I too weep? Where then is fortitude? And, fortitude abandon'd, where is man? I know the terms on which he sees the light; He that is born, is listed; life is war ; Eternal war with woe. Who bears it best, Deserves it least.-On other themes I'll dwell. LORENZO let me turn my thoughts on thee, And thine, on themes may profit; profit there, Where most they need. Themes, too, the genuine growth Of dear PHILANDER's dust. He, thus, tho' dead, May still befriend-What themes? Time's wondrous Price, Death, Friendship, and PHILANDER's final scene. So could I touch these themes, as might obtain Thine ear, nor leave thy heart quite disengag'd, The good deed would delight me; half impress On my dark cloud an Iris : and from grief Fast binds and vengeance claims the full arrear. Thou think'st it folly to be wise too soon. With holy hope of nobler time to come; (These heav'n benign in vital union binds) |