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Wynne, Ellis, 1671-1734

"The Visions of the Sleeping Bard"


With heavy heart the valiantest of men
Lays low his head beneath th' impending doom;
In terror he descends death's awsome glen;
While there appear flashing through the gloom
The lurid shades of deeds which in the bloom
Of youth he dared; at last the conscience cries
With ruthless voice: "There's life beyond the tomb;"
His dying thoughts all vanities despise
As on the threshold of Eternity he lies.
The heavy heart that suffers all such grief
May, while the breath of life doth still remain,
Hope for a joyous peace and blest relief;
But if grim Death his fated victim gain,
Woe's him that entereth the realm of pain -
For e'er on him its frowning portals close,
Nor gleam of hope shall he perceive again,
For in that vast eternal night he knows
A woe awaits that far surpasseth earthly woes.
The heavy heart beneath its weight is crushed,
And at its very name--Damnation writ,
All men their vain and froward clamors hushed;
But when within the fiery gaping pit
Whose flaming ramparts none will ever quit,
Above the thunder's roar th' accursed host
Raise such loud cries, it passeth human wit
To dream of aught so dire, for at the most,
All woes of earth as pleasures seem unto the lost.


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