Robert Blair

“ Ne'er sunshine broke, nor smile was seen to rise;
Whose sickly goodness lives upon grimace,
And pleads a merit from a blubber'd face.
Thou kept thy raiment for the needy poor,
And taught the fatherless to know thy door;
From griping hunger set the needy free;
That they were needy, was enough to thee.
Thy fame to please, whilst others restless be,
Fame laid her shyness by, and courted thee ”

“ And who so artful as to put it by?
’Tis long since death had the majority;
Yet strange! the living lay it not to heart.
See yonder maker of the dead man’s bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle,
Of hard unmeaning face, down which ne’er stole
A gentle tear; with mattoc in his hand
Digs thro’ whole rows of kindred and acquaintance,
By far his juniors.—Scarce a skull’s cast up,
But well he knows its Owner, and can tell
Some passage of his life.—Thus hand in hand
The sot has walk’d with Death twice twenty years ”

“ In journeying thro' life:—The task be mine
To paint the gloomy horrors of the Tomb!
Th' appointed place of rendezvous, where all
These travellers meet.—Thy fuccours I implore,
Eternal King! whose potent arm sustains
The keys of hell and death—The Grave, dread thing!
Men shiver, when thou art nam'd! ”

“ At the poor bugbear Death ——Then might the wretch
That's weary of the world, and tir'd of life,
At once give each inquietude the flip,
By stealing out of being when he pleased,
And by what way ——whether by hemp or steel.
Death's thousand doors stand open. ”

“ Bewilder'd in the greatness of thy fame,
What shall the Muse, what next in order name?
Which of thy social qualities commend—
Whether of husband, father, or of friend?
A husband soft, beneficent, and kind,
As ever virgin wish'd, or wife could find ”

“ And travelling thro' the bountiless length of space,
Marks well the courses of the far-seen orbs,
That roll with regular confusion there,
In ecstasy of thought. But ah! proud man,
Great heights are hazardous to the weak heads
Soon, very soon, thy firmest footing fails
And down thou dropp'st into the darksome place,
Where nor device, nor knowledge ever came.
Here the tongue-warrior lies, disabled now;
Disarm'd, dishonour'd, like a wretch that's gagg'd ”

“ Enlightens but yourselves. Well,—'tis no matter;
A very little time will clear up all,
And make us learn'd as you are, and as close,
Death’s shafts fly thick;—Here falls the vilage-swain
And there his pamper’d lord.—The cup goes round ”

“ Strange persecution when the Grave itself
Is no protection from rude suffrance.
⁠Absurd to think to over-reach the Grave,
And from the wreck of names to rescue ours.
The best concerted schemes men lay for fame,
Die fast away: only themselves die faster. ”

“ Inglorious bondage! ——Human nature groans
Beneath a vassalege so vile and cruel,
And its vast body bleeds thro' ev'ry vein.
What havock left thou made, foul monster sin?
Greatest and first of ills. ——The fruitful parent
Of woes of all dimensions! ——But for the
Sorrow had never been. ——Ah! noxious thing,
Of vilest nature! ——Other forts of evils
Are kindly circumscrib'd, and have their bounds. ”

“ Pluck'd from their orbits, shall the planets fall,
And smoke and conflagration cover all:
What, then, is man? The creature of a day,
By moments spent, and minutes borne away.
Time, like a raging torrent, hurries on ”

“ And who so artful as to put it by?
’Tis long since death had the majority; ”

“ With haste runs over ev'ry different room,
In pain to see the whole.---Thrice happy meeting
Nor time, nor death, hall ever part them more.
'Tis but a night, a long and moonless night,
We make the grave our bed, and then are gone. ”

“ Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul;
Sweetner of life, and solder of society; ”

“ Ghearless, unsocial plant, that loves to dwell
'Midst sculls and coffins, epitaphs and worms;
Where light-heel'd ghosts and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports)
Embody'd, thick, perform their mystic rounds.
No other merriment, dull tree, is thine. ”

“ Who gather round, and wonder at the tale
Of horrid Apparition, tall and ghostly,
That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand
O'er some new open'd grave; and (strange to tell!)
Evanishes at crowing of the cock. ”

“ Th' oppressive, sturdy, man-destroying Villains,
Who ravag'd kingdoms and laid empires waste,
And in a cruel wantonness of power
Thinn'd states of half their people, and gave up
To want, the rest: now, like a storm that's spent,
Lie hush'd, and meanly sneak behind the covert. ”

“ O'er all those ample desarts death hath spread,
This chaos of mankind ——O great man-eater!
Whose every day is carnival, not fated yet!
Unheard-of epicure, without a fellow!
The veriest gluttons do not always cram,
Some intervals of abstinence are fought
To edge the appetite ——Thou seekest none.
Methinks the countless swarms thou left devour'd,
And thousands that each hour thou gobblest up;
This, less than this, might gorge thee the full
But ah! ”

“ More horrid yet, to die by one's own hand.
Self-murder!—name it not: our island's shame:
That makes her the reproach of neighbouring states:
Shall Nature, swerving from her earliest dictate
Self-preservation, fall by her own act? ”

“ How shocking must thy summons be, O Death!
To him that is at case in his possessions;
Who counting on long years of pleasure here;
Is quite unfurnish'd for that world to come! ”

“ And that there is, Conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, tells ev'ry man;
Then must it be an awful thing to die:
More horrid yet, to die by one's own hand. ”

“ Their brauchless trunks ——others so thin a-top,
That scarce two crows can lodge in the same tree.
Strange things the neighbours say, have happen'd here.
Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs;
Dead men have come again, and walk'd about
And the great bell has toll'd, unrung, untouch'd! ”

“ Each soul shall have a Body ready furnish'd;
And each shall have his own.—Hence ye profane,
Ask not; how this can be?—Sure the same pow'r
That rear'd the piece at first, and took it down,
Can re-assemble the loose scatter'd parts,
And put them as they were.—Almighty God
Has done much more; nor is his arm-impair'd
Thro' length of days. And what he can; he will:
His faithfulness stands bound to see is done! ”

“ Our time is fix'd, and all our days, are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not ——this we know,
Duty requires we calmly wait the summons,
Nor dare to stir till leav'n shall give permission; ”

“ The common Damn'd shun their society,
And look upon themselves as finds less foul. ”

“ And wonder of the world, whose spiky top
Has wounded the thick cloud, and long outliv'd
The angry shaking of the winter's storm; ”

“ Like Centries that must keep their destin'd stand,
And wait th' ppointed hour, till they're reliv'd.
Those only are the brave, that keep their ground,
And keep it to the last. To run away,
Is but a cowards trick: To run away,
From this world's ills, that at the very worst
Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves
By boldly vent'ring on a world unknown,
And plunging headlong in the dark;—'tis mad ”

“ Not to return;—or if it did, its visits
Like those of Angels, short and far between; ”

“ The school-boy with his satchel in his hand,
Whistling aloud to bear his courage up,
Ad lightly tripping o'er the long flat stones,
(With nettles skirted, and with moss o'ergrown;) ”

“ When it draws near to witching time of night. ”

“ Of joys departed
Not to return, low painful the remembrance! ”

“ Like those of Angels, short and far between; ”

“ Not to return, low painful the remembrance! ”