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| WE trace the pow’r of Death from tomb to tomb, | |
| And his are all the ages yet to come. | |
| ’Tis his to call the planets from on high, | |
| To blacken Phœbus, and dissolve the sky; | |
| His too, when all in his dark realms are hurl’d, | 5 |
| From its firm base to shake the solid world; | |
| His fatal sceptre rules the spacious whole, | |
| And trembling nature rocks from pole to pole. | |
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| Awful he moves, and wide his wings are spread: | |
| Behold thy brother number’d with the dead! | 10 |
| From bondage freed, the exulting spirit flies | |
| Beyond Olympus, and these starry skies. | |
| Lost in our woe for thee, blest shade, we mourn | |
| In vain; to earth thou never must return. | |
| Thy sisters too, fair mourner, feel the dart | 15 |
| Of Death, and with fresh torture rend thine heart. | |
| Weep not for them, who wish thine happy mind | |
| To rise with them, and leave the world behind. | |
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| As a young plant by hurricanes up torn, | |
| So near its parent lies the newly born— | 20 |
| But ’midst the bright ethereal train behold | |
| It shines superior on a throne of gold: | |
| Then, mourner, cease; let hope thy tears restrain, | |
| Smile on the tomb, and sooth the raging pain. | |
| On yon blest regions fix thy longing view, | 25 |
| Mindless of sublunary scenes below; | |
| Ascend the sacred mount, in thought arise, | |
| And seek substantial, and immortal joys; | |
| Where hope receives, where faith to vision springs, | |
| And raptur’d seraphs tune th’ immortal strings | 30 |
| To strains extatic. Thou the chorus join, | |
| And to thy father tune the praise divine. | |
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