Classic Poem

Come bid adieu, my soul, to earthly pleasures. —
Illusive phantoms! distant how they smile,
Fair as the colours of the radiant bow;
But nearer fade upon the cheated eye,
Lose all their lustre, or dissolve in air.
Ah, think how soon these dreams will flit away;
How soon these gayly-tempting forms will sink
In death's eternal shade! — Death onward comes
With hasty step, though unperceiv'd and silent.
Perhaps (alarming thought!) perhaps he aims
E'en now the fatal blow that ends my life,
O let me then, arous'd, reflect in time,
And make this awful, this important theme
Familiar to my thoughts! Awake, my soul,
Nor, careless, slumber on the brink of fate.
With constant warnings, with loud admonitions,
Can I be unconcern'd? At length my eyes,
Long held in mists or cheated with false visions,
Begin to open on the awful scene.
Let idly-active fancy, now no more
Spread her gay flattering colours to my view;
But aid my better thoughts, and represent
Important truths in all their striking forms.

Behold the gaping tomb! it seems to speak,
With silent horror, to my shivering heart;
Bids me survey my swift approaching doom,
And view the dark retreat which waits my coming.

O death, thou king of terrors! dreadful name!
What tongue can e'er describe, what thought can image
The scenes of horror that surround thy throne?
From thy wide-wasting hand what vast destruction
Is pour'd on all the tribes of wretched mortals?
Behold, on every fide the scatter'd bones
Pave all the dreary mansion, and impart
Chill melancholy to the sinking spirits,
While all aghast I stand, and fix mine eyes
On the dire prospect! Othou gloomy Monarch,
Are these the trophies of thy conquering arms?

Nor reverend hoary age, nor blooming youth,
Nor boasted strength escape thy fatal dart,
Not the persuasive power of beauty's charms,
Nor the soft moving tears of innocence
Can stay thy hand: nor can the miser's gold,
Nor all the treasures of the eastern shore
Buy one short moment of relentless death.

Not ev'n the good man's virtues ought avail
To ward the direful stroke; nor all the prayers
And ardent wishes of the grateful poor
Fed from his table, and who daily knew
The blessings of his charitable hand.
See, his sad relatives, his mournful friends
Around his dying bed! what silent sorrow
Sits on each visage, while their streaming eyes
And wringing hands confess their inward anguish!
Who can describe the unutterable woe
Which fills their hearts, to see a father, brother,
A friend, in whom their all of earthly bliss
Was center'd, gasping on the verge of life?
And ev'n the sad remains of hope are lost.
His every dying groan augments their tears,
And the cold sweats declare his exit nigh;
'Till the last breath consigns them to despair.
Heart-rending pain! Inexorable death!

Then, O my soul, since this deluding world,
With all her boasted stores, has nought to give
That can procure an hour's, a moment's pause,
When death commission'd aims the parting stroke;
Nor this weak frame, this mortal tenement
Of feeble texture, long sustain the assault
Of his attendants, sickness, pain and sorrow;
Seek, timely seek, while mercy points the way,
A firm, clear title to those blest abodes,
Prepar'd on high, unconscious of decay:
That when this tottering frame, (not built to last,)
Frail house of clay, which shakes with every wind,
Dissolves, and falls a heap of dust and ruin;
In realms of light I may for ever dwell,
In mansions never form'd by mortal hands,
Beyond the reach of sorrow, pain, or death.

O may my name but find some humble place
In the bright records of the court of heaven,
Sign'd with the atoning blood of my Redeemer!
May his almighty love cheer my last hours,
Shew me my sins all cancell'd by his death,
And smiling open endless joy before me!
Then shall I triumph o'er my mortal soe,
And with exulting, heavenly transport say,
O death, where is thy sting? and where, O grave,
Insatiate grave, is thy victorious power?
Then shall my last expiring accents breathe
His blissful name, who, dying, vanquish'd death,
And purchas'd life, immortal life, for me —
Jesus, my Lord, my Saviour, and my all!