Part 28 (1/2)

No longer impotent, and frail, Ourselves above we rise: We scarce believe ourselves below!

We trespa.s.s on the skies!

The Lord, the soul, and source of all, Whilst man enjoys his ease, Is executing human will, In earth, and air, and seas;

Beyond us, what can angels boast?

Archangels what require?

Whate'er below, above, is done, Is done as--we desire.

What glory this for man so mean, Whose life is but a span!

This is meridian majesty!

This, the sublime of man!

Beyond the boast of pagan song My sacred subject s.h.i.+nes!

And for a foil the l.u.s.tre takes Of Rome's exalted lines.

”All, that the sun surveys, subdued, But Cato's mighty mind.”

How grand! most true; yet far beneath The soul of the resign'd:

To more than kingdoms, more than worlds, To pa.s.sion that gives law; Its matchless empire could have kept Great Cato's pride in awe;

That fatal pride, whose cruel point Transfix'd his n.o.ble breast; Far n.o.bler! if his fate sustain'd And left to heaven the rest;

Then he the palm had borne away, At distance Caesar thrown; Put him off cheaply with the world, And made the skies his own.

What cannot resignation do?

It wonders can perform; That powerful charm, ”Thy will be done,”

Can lay the loudest storm.

Come, resignation! then, from fields, Where, mounted on the wing, A wing of flame, blest martyrs' souls Ascended to their king.

Who is it calls thee? one whose need Transcends the common size; Who stands in front against a foe To which no equal rise:

In front he stands, the brink he treads Of an eternal state; How dreadful his appointed post!

How strongly arm'd by fate:

His threatening foe! what shadows deep O'erwhelm his gloomy brow!

His dart tremendous!--at fourscore My sole asylum, thou!

Haste, then, O resignation! haste, 'Tis thine to reconcile My foe, and me; at thy approach My foe begins to smile:

O! for that summit of my wish, Whilst here I draw my breath, That promise of eternal life, A glorious smile in death:

What sight, heaven's azure arch beneath, Has most of heaven to boast?

The man resign'd; at once serene, And giving up the ghost.

At death's arrival they shall smile, Who, not in life o'er gay, Serious and frequent thought send out To meet him on his way:

My gay coevals! (such there are) If happiness is dear; Approaching death's alarming day Discreetly let us fear: