Classic Poem

I.

D O minds terrene, that never drew
Celestial air, nor ever flew
Above these foggy regions,
Their dearest blood profusely waste,
Their lives away as trifles cast
Amidst the furious legions?

II.

While proud ambition's fatal fires
Inflame their breasts with fond desires
Of an illustrious name;
Do they with shoutings welcome death,
And generously bequeath their breath
Unto the cheeks of fame?

III.

How then can souls of heavenly race,
Who by regenerating grace
Acquire a mind divine,
Shun to imbrace triumphant flames,
Knowing that their immortal names
In glory's sphere shall shine?

IV.

A christian sure, with eager strife,
Shou'd be e'en prodigal of life,
And covetous of pain;
And, with th' heroick martyr cry,
Can I but once for Jesus dye?
Is glory's way so plain?

V.

With transport does the hero ride
Through horrid plains, while every side
Lightens with clashing arms;
While shouting soldiers tear the ground,
And war-like drums and trumpets sound
Bellona's fierce alarms?

VI.

Not fearing death in any form,
Tho thundering guns discharge a storm,
Black as infernal caves;
Does he rush through those showers of hail,
That drown the field with blood; and sail
To kingdoms thro' the waves?

VII.

And shall a saint's heroick mind,
With nobler principles refin'd,
Seeking a heavenly throne,
Betray a temper so supine,
So mean, as not to dare to climb
A cross, to reach a crown?

VIII.

O with what calm, composed smiles
Should christians look on burning piles?
With what an equal frame?
Nay with what transports should they trace
The steps of Jesus, and embrace
A gibbet, or a flame?

IX.

Does the gay splendor of a crown,
(Tho stuft with thorns instead of down)
With a delusive shine
So dazzle princes eyes, that they
By death's black regions boldly stray,
A tottering throne to climb?

X.

And shall celestial diadems,
That flame with stars instead of gems,
Not charm aspiring eyes?
Can any so profane be found,
Who will not hug a mortal wound,
To gain so great a prize?

XI.

Did vain ambition's hopes excite
The Roman champions with delight
Herculean feats to dare;
To gain a trifling dignity,
And ride with proud solemnity
In a triumphant char?

XII.

How bless'd are they then who retire,
In chariots of triumphant fire,
To their eternal home;
Where they the robes of glory wear,
And in their hands as conqu'rors bear
The palm of martyrdom!