166
COWLEY'S POEMS.
We should stand shivering, and but slowly venture
The fatal flood to enter.
Since, willing or unwilling, we must do it,
They feel least cold and pain who plunge at once into it.
The fatal flood to enter.
Since, willing or unwilling, we must do it,
They feel least cold and pain who plunge at once into it.
LIFE.
"Nascentes morimur."Manil.
We're ill by these grammarians us'd;
We are abus'd by words, grossly abus'd:
From the maternal tomb,
To the grave's fruitful womb,
We call here Life; but Life's a name
That nothing here can truly claim:
This wretched inn, where we scarce stay to bait,
We call our dwelling-place;
We call one step a race:
But angels, in their full enlighten'd state,
Angels, who Live, and know what ’tis to Be;
Who all the nonsense of our language see;
Who speak Things, and our words, their ill-drawn pictures' scorn;
When we, by' a foolish figure, say,
"Behold an old man dead!" then they
Speak properly, and cry, "Behold a man-child born!"
We are abus'd by words, grossly abus'd:
From the maternal tomb,
To the grave's fruitful womb,
We call here Life; but Life's a name
That nothing here can truly claim:
This wretched inn, where we scarce stay to bait,
We call our dwelling-place;
We call one step a race:
But angels, in their full enlighten'd state,
Angels, who Live, and know what ’tis to Be;
Who all the nonsense of our language see;
Who speak Things, and our words, their ill-drawn pictures' scorn;
When we, by' a foolish figure, say,
"Behold an old man dead!" then they
Speak properly, and cry, "Behold a man-child born!"
