After the prize in view! and, like a bird That's hamper'd, struggles hard to get away! Whilst the glad gates of sight are wide expanded To let new glories in, the first fair fruits Has not a wish uncrown'd. E'en the lag flesh- It's better half, never to sunder more. Nor shall it hope in vain: the time draws on But must give back it's long committed dust : Make up the full account; not the least atom power That rear'd the piece at first, and took it down, And put them as they were. Almighty God Has done much more; nor is his arm impair'd Through length of days; and what he can he will: His faithfulness stands bound to see it done. Not unattentive to the call, shall wake; Nor shall the conscious soul Mistake it's partner; but, amidst the crowd Shall rush, with all th' impatience of a man That's new come home, and, having long been absent, With haste runs over every different room, In pain to see the whole. Thrice happy meeting! Nor time, nor death, shall ever part them more ! 'Tis but a night, a long and moonless night; We make the grave our bed, and then are gone ! Thus at the shut of ev'n, the weary bird Leaves the wide air, and in some lonely brake Cow'rs down, and dozes till the dawn of day; Then claps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears away. THE END. |