in vain.
Whence, then, those thoughts? those towering thoughts, that flew
Such monstrous heights?--From instinct, and from pride.
The glorious instinct of a deathless soul,
Confusedly conscious of her dignity,
Suggested truths they could not understand.
In Lust's dominion, and in Passion's storm, 590
Truth's system broken, scatter'd fragments lay,
As light in chaos, glimmering through the gloom:
Smit with the pomp of lofty sentiments,
Pleased Pride proclaim'd, what Reason disbelieved.
Pride, like the Delphic priestess, with a swell,
Raved nonsense, destined to be future sense,
When life immortal, in full day, shall shine;
And death's dark shadows fly the Gospel sun.
They spoke, what nothing but immortal souls
Could speak; and thus the truth they question'd, proved.
Can then absurdities, as well as crimes, 601
Speak man immortal? All things speak him so.
Much has been urged; and dost thou call for more?
Call; and with endless questions be distress'd,
All unresolvable, if earth is all.
"Why life, a moment; infinite, desire? 606
Our wish, eternity? Our home, the grave?
Heaven's promise dormant lies in human hope;
Who wishes life immortal, proves it too.
Why happiness pursued, though never found?
Man's thirst of happiness declares it is,
(For nature never gravitates to nought);
That thirst unquench'd declares it is not here. 613
My Lucia, thy Clarissa call to thought;
Why cordial friendship riveted so deep,
As hearts to pierce at first, at parting, rend,
If friend, and friendship, vanish in an hour?
Is not this torment in the mask of joy?
Why by reflection marr'd the joys of sense?
Why past, and future, preying on our hearts, 620
And putting all our present joys to death?
Why labours Reason? Instinct were as well;
Instinct far better; what can choose, can err:
O how infallible the thoughtless brute!
'Twere well his Holiness were half as sure.
Reason with inclination, why at war?
Why sense of guilt? why Conscience up in arms?"
Conscience of guilt, is prophecy of pain,
And bosom-council to decline the blow.
Reason with inclination ne'er had jarr'd, 630
If nothing future paid forbearance here:
Thus on--these, and a thousand pleas uncall'd,
All promise, some insure, a second