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On Time, Death, Friendship.
23
And her dread diary with horror fills.
Not the gross act alone employs her pen;
She reconnoitres fancy's airy band,
A watchful foe! the formidable spy,
List'ning, o'erhears the whispers of our camp:
Our dawning purposes of heart explores,
And steals our embryos of iniquity.
As all-rapacious usurers conceal
Their doomsday book from all consuming heirs;
Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats
Us spendthrifts of inestimable Time;
Unnoted; notes each moment misapply'd:
In leaves more durable than leaves of brass,
Writes our whole history; which Death shall read
In ev'ry pale delinquent's private ear;
And judgment publish; publish to more worlds
Than this; and endless age in groans resound.
Lorenzo, such that sleeper in thy breast!
Such is her slumber; and her vengeance such
For slighted counsel; such thy future peace!
And think'st thou still thou canst be wise too soon?
But why on time so lavish is my song?
On this great theme kind nature keeps a school,
To teach her sons herself. Each night we die,
Each morn are born anew: each day, a life!
And shall we kill each day? if trifling kills:
Sure vice must butcher. O what heaps of slain
Cry out for vengeance on us! Time destroy'd
Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
Time flies, Death urges, knells call, Heav'n invites,
Hell threatens: all exerts; in effort, all;
More than creation labours!—labours more?
And is there in creation; what, amidst
This tumult universal, wing'd dispatch,
And ardent energy, supinely yawns?———
Not the gross act alone employs her pen;
She reconnoitres fancy's airy band,
A watchful foe! the formidable spy,
List'ning, o'erhears the whispers of our camp:
Our dawning purposes of heart explores,
And steals our embryos of iniquity.
As all-rapacious usurers conceal
Their doomsday book from all consuming heirs;
Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats
Us spendthrifts of inestimable Time;
Unnoted; notes each moment misapply'd:
In leaves more durable than leaves of brass,
Writes our whole history; which Death shall read
In ev'ry pale delinquent's private ear;
And judgment publish; publish to more worlds
Than this; and endless age in groans resound.
Lorenzo, such that sleeper in thy breast!
Such is her slumber; and her vengeance such
For slighted counsel; such thy future peace!
And think'st thou still thou canst be wise too soon?
But why on time so lavish is my song?
On this great theme kind nature keeps a school,
To teach her sons herself. Each night we die,
Each morn are born anew: each day, a life!
And shall we kill each day? if trifling kills:
Sure vice must butcher. O what heaps of slain
Cry out for vengeance on us! Time destroy'd
Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
Time flies, Death urges, knells call, Heav'n invites,
Hell threatens: all exerts; in effort, all;
More than creation labours!—labours more?
And is there in creation; what, amidst
This tumult universal, wing'd dispatch,
And ardent energy, supinely yawns?———
Man
