Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A55519
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A pastoral reflection on death a poem.
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Potenger, John, 1647-1733.
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1691
(1691)
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Wing P3027; ESTC R31943
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4,532
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18
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A Pastoral Reflection ON DEATH A POEM Omnes una manet Nox Et calcanda semel via Lethi Hor. LONDON Printed for T. Dring at the Harrow at Chancery Lane End next Fleet-street MDCXCI DEAR NED AN Old Friend is the best Mecaenas that makes me chuse you before any Poetical Lord or Esquire and I believe this Reflection will prove too Melancholy for the Town where Men make it their Business to forget Mortality For these Reasons I have sent this Poem to you in the Country where much Leisure and an honest Retirement will permit you to enjoy the Meditation Nothing here goes off but Satyr for our good natur'd Age is mightily in love with a Muse that 's born with Teeth though such Births have always been esteem'd Ominous and is very fond of Men that come into the World like Briers to scratch and tear all about them I cannot deny but Obscenity has its good liking But I should be very unwilling to make my Court that way for I am much of the Spanish Ladys Mind who dreaded to be delivered down to Posterity for a Whore though to a King You had not been troubled with this Poem in Print if most of it had not been put out before in a Book of Miscellanies but it was so blemished by the Press that its ill usage moved the Compassion of Strangers which encouraged me to rescue it from its Deformity and to add a second Part. But after all if it will divert you when you want a News-Letter or a Gazette it is as much as is expected by Dear Ned Yours A Pastoral Reflection ON DEATH Strephon and Damon BEneath a gloomy Yews unhealthy Shade Whose noxious Covert's shun'd by Bird and Beast The wretched Damon lay with Arms a-cross His labouring Breast quick like a sickly Pulse His Heart with Passion seem'd to throb and beat Out of his half-clos'd Eyes there stole a Tear Along the Sallow Furrows of his Cheeks The deep ingraven Characters of Grief The Pipe which he with Tuneful Breath inspir'd And made the Vocal Organ of his Lays Fell broke and silent by the dire effect Of raging Sorrow for in that was lost The Wonder and Delight of all the Plains As Strephon chanc'd to shape his Course that way In Quest of two lost Ewes that lately stray'd He spy'd the Shepherd stretch'd upon the Ground Amaz'd at the sad spectacle of Woe He silent stood then Damon Damon cry'd When thus provoked he rais'd his weary Head That streight recoil'd and gently sunk to rest At last with 's Elbow pillow'd from the Ground He gave Attention to his Speaking Friend STREPHON What makes my Damon secretly Retire Resolv'd in private to possess his Grief When Damon's Sheep require their Damons Care Last Night I heard the Wolves run howling by With their fierce Eyes devouring all our Flocks Their Fear above their Hunger scarce prevail'd For two Lambs in my view they almost seiz'd In yonder Village too I heard this Day That Thieves have lately visited our Folds Rise Damon rise and leave thy Cares behind DAMON All this will not provoke my Diligence For far more rav'nous Wolves have seiz'd on me And make my panting Heart their wretched Prey That vainly strives to shift the cruel Pain My Breast was nev'r infested with wild Care As long as dear Myrtillo liv'd whose Charms Cou'd calm the roughest Tempest of my Mind A discontinu'd Sun-shine I enjoy'd Till dear Myrtillo set in his dark Grave Now there 's no lucid Interval of Peace Or pause of Quiet to my troubled Mind Sad Death must be the Period of my Woe And Life then Damon like Myrtillo Dye STREPHON Thy Soul fond Shephard is with Passion craz'd And thy distemper'd Reason falsly takes The dreadful King of Terrors for thy Friend Shou'd he but lay his Icy Hand on thee Affrighted Nature would recant the wish Which you in Trouble made with too much haste And like the Grass before the Mowers Sythe Wou'd bending try to ' scape the fatal Stroke If Death 's so pleasant why shou'd you lament Myrtillo's Fate DAMON Alas the lovely Youth Wou'd willingly have suffer'd tedious Life The strong Convulsions of his Friendship were More fierce than the last Agonies of Death His parting Soul by ling'ring here below Did seem to catch at Life to stay with me But when resistless Fate had summon'd him He kindly fix'd his closing Eyes on mine Then beckon'd me to follow to the Grave This makes me think 't is no hard Task to Dye For harmless Shepherds whose unspotted Lives Are innocent as are the Flocks they feed Fear is but the Result of Guilt STREPHON I Know Death has his Terrors chiefly from our Crimes And Vertue can disarm the Gastly Foe Yet Nature too still fears to be dissolv'd Like tender Lambs that dread the Butcher's Knife Although they nothing fear beyond the Blow For who can boast a perfect Innnocence Or run the nimble Race of humane Life Always along a spotless milky-way There 's no such Path but in the Heavens above VVhich we at penning-Penning-time so plainly see Methinks I tremble whilst I talk of DEATH Am almost frighted with my own Discourse Thus I anticipate the Fatal Hour That must snatch me from chast Dorinda's Arms And the dear Pledges of our Mutual Love When I am Dead who 'll teach my lovely Boys To use the Hook or help the labouring Ewe Dorinda with my Boys and Sheep must all Be left a Prey to Man who still to Man Proves the most savage VVolf The strong VVorry the weak remorsless Avarice Urging the hungry Miser to Oppress And wild Ambition Treads upon the Poor Bad footing sure and that which will subvert But ill-laid Greatness of aspiring Man Such Thoughts as these Myrtillo had when Life Did as you say seem pleasing to the Youth DAMON VVhy wou'd you abrogate my firm Resolve And with those Fears repeal the thoughts of Death Did you but know how sweetly they Repose On Beds of Earth that are Lodg'd under Ground Uninterrupted Rest they all enjoy And with the want of Life are best by Death They but Retreat to a far greater VVorld For how few tread the Surface of the Globe Compar'd to crowding Colonies that Fate Sends daily to the Bowels of the Earth That has been peopling ever since old Time Commenc'd the Subterranean Universe Still gapes to swallow down the upper VVorld But when my Body's earthen Pitcher's broke By Nature's stroke or Fortune's random blow My Soul like Gideon's Lamp from its crack'd Urn Shall Death's Black Night turn to Eternal Day For all the Spots of my poor sullied Soul Shall be wash'd off by Heavens Eternal Lamb VVhose tender Veins spouted a Bath of Blood The sacred Laver of all faithful Swains I well remember dear Mirtillo's Song With which he us'd to chear his doubtful Soul Before she took her last Eternal Flight A Penitential ODE I. TEar off the Strings undress the speaking Lyre Let nought but Groans her Breast inspire