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On Liberty.
291
Liberty sometimes is impaired in you,
But was eternal liberty your due?
Should it be equal in each time and state
You'd be a God, to be a man's your fate.
Shall a drop in the vast unbounded sea
Exclaim: Immensity was made for me?
No; all is weak in thee, to change inclined
Thy beauty, strength, the talents of thy mind.
All nature has its limits fixed below,
Shall then man's power be boundless here below?
But when your heart which various passions sway
To their strong impulse overpowered gives way;
When to their force you find your free-will bend,
You had it sure, since you perceive it end.
Whene'er you feel the burning fever's flame
By slow degrees it undermines your frame;
But that attack no sure destruction brings,
Though for a time it wears life's feeble springs.
You oft return from death's half-opened gate
More healthy, temperate, and more sedate,
Your great prerogative more strictly scan,
Liberty is the soul's health in a man.
Sometimes its efficacy may subside
Subdued by rage, ambition, love, or pride.
The thirst for knowledge may its power control,
Many are the diseases of the soul.
But you against them may yourself defend,
Open this book, consult that learned friend;
A friend's the gift of heaven, a blessing rare,
To Sylva,[1] Vernage, Helvetius repair.
But was eternal liberty your due?
Should it be equal in each time and state
You'd be a God, to be a man's your fate.
Shall a drop in the vast unbounded sea
Exclaim: Immensity was made for me?
No; all is weak in thee, to change inclined
Thy beauty, strength, the talents of thy mind.
All nature has its limits fixed below,
Shall then man's power be boundless here below?
But when your heart which various passions sway
To their strong impulse overpowered gives way;
When to their force you find your free-will bend,
You had it sure, since you perceive it end.
Whene'er you feel the burning fever's flame
By slow degrees it undermines your frame;
But that attack no sure destruction brings,
Though for a time it wears life's feeble springs.
You oft return from death's half-opened gate
More healthy, temperate, and more sedate,
Your great prerogative more strictly scan,
Liberty is the soul's health in a man.
Sometimes its efficacy may subside
Subdued by rage, ambition, love, or pride.
The thirst for knowledge may its power control,
Many are the diseases of the soul.
But you against them may yourself defend,
Open this book, consult that learned friend;
A friend's the gift of heaven, a blessing rare,
To Sylva,[1] Vernage, Helvetius repair.
- ↑ A famous physician of Paris.
