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. 1390 Ye sons of Earth! (nor willing to be more!) 1385 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 ventured into light, well pleased 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 gulf. 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, incensed, 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, 1395 1401 And bold blasphemer of his friend,-the World! The world, whose legions cost him slender pay, 1405 '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, 1410 But art and science, like thy wealth, will leave thee, 'Thy wisdom all can do but-make thee wise.' Nor think this censure is severe on thee: Satan, thy master, I dare call a dunce. 1415 THE CONSOLATION. NIGHT IX. CONTAINING, AMONG OTHER THINGS, I A MORAL SURVEY OF THE NOCTURNAL HEAVENS II, A NIGHT ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE. Fatis contraria fata rependens. As when a traveller, a long day pass'd In painful search of what he cannot find, Virg. At night's approach, content with the next cot, Then, cheers his heart with what his fate affords, And chants his sonnet to deceive the time, Till the due season calls him to repose; 5 Where Disappointment smiles at Hope's career, 10 At length have housed me in an humble shed, 15 20 Torn from my bleeding breast, and death's dark shade, Though far, far higher set; in aim, I trust, Has not the Muse asserted pleasures pure, 25 Like those above, exploding other joys? 30 Thy smile's sincere; not more sincere can pe Lorenzo's smile, than my compassion for him. 35 And, when at worst, they dream themselves quite well. And Conscience, deaden'd by repeated strokes, 40 To triumph in the blackness of our guilt 45 But, grant no guilt, no shame, no least alloy; But, through the thin partition of an hour, 50 I see its sables wove by Destiny; And that in sorrow buried, this in shame; While howling furies ring the doleful knell, And Conscience, now so soft thou scarce canst hear Her whisper, echoes her eternal peal. 55 Where the prime actors of the last year's scene ; But needless monuments to wake the thought; 'Profess'd diversions! cannot these escape?' 60 65 70 75 75 80 What all the pomps and triumphs of our lives 85 90 Lorenzo! such the glories of the world! From human mould we reap our daily bread. 95 Whole buried towns support the dancer's neel. 101 105 Winds scatter, through the mighty void, the dry · O Death! I stretch my view, what visions rise ! In wither d laurels glide before my sight! What lengths of far famed ages, billowed high In unsubstantial images of air! The melancholy ghosts of dead Renown, 110 115 Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause, 120 With penitential aspect, as they pass, All point at earth, and hiss at human pride; The wisdom of the wise, and prancings of the great. But, O Lorenzo! far the rest above, Of ghastly nature, and enormous size, 125 One form assaults my sight, and chills my blood, 130 |