BOOK THE NINTH.
323
And thou dost deem it impious to destroy
The life God gave? What, Maiden, is the lot
Assign'd to mortal man? born but to drag, 180
Thro' Life's long pilgrimage, the wearying load
Of Being; care-corroded at the heart;
Assail'd by all the numerous train of ills
That flesh inherits; till at length worn out,
This is his consummation! think again: 185
What, Maiden, canst thou hope from lengthen'd life
But lengthen'd sorrow? If protracted long,
Till on the bed of Death thy feeble limbs
Outstretch their languid length? Oh think what thoughts,
What agonizing woes, in that dread hour, 190
Assail the sinking heart! slow beats the pulse!
Dim grows the eye, and clammy drops bedew
The shuddering frame; then in its mightiest force,
Mightiest in impotence, the love of life
Shall seize the throbbing heart—the faltering lips 195
Pour out the impious prayer, that fain would change
The Immutable's decree—surrounding friends
The life God gave? What, Maiden, is the lot
Assign'd to mortal man? born but to drag, 180
Thro' Life's long pilgrimage, the wearying load
Of Being; care-corroded at the heart;
Assail'd by all the numerous train of ills
That flesh inherits; till at length worn out,
This is his consummation! think again: 185
What, Maiden, canst thou hope from lengthen'd life
But lengthen'd sorrow? If protracted long,
Till on the bed of Death thy feeble limbs
Outstretch their languid length? Oh think what thoughts,
What agonizing woes, in that dread hour, 190
Assail the sinking heart! slow beats the pulse!
Dim grows the eye, and clammy drops bedew
The shuddering frame; then in its mightiest force,
Mightiest in impotence, the love of life
Shall seize the throbbing heart—the faltering lips 195
Pour out the impious prayer, that fain would change
The Immutable's decree—surrounding friends
"Sob
