2 June 2017

I Wonder How 'Tis With the Dead

John Norris (1657-1711), "The Complaint," A Collection of Miscellanies (London: Edmund Parker, 1730), p. 36:
Well 'tis a dull perpetual round
Which here we silly mortals tread;
Here's nought, I'll swear, worth living to be found,
I wonder how 'tis with the dead.
Better I hope, or else ye powers divine
Unmake me, I my immortality resign.

Still to be vex'd by joys delay'd
Or by fruition to be cloy'd?
Still to be wearied in a fruitless chase,
Yet still to run, and lose the race?
Still our departed pleasures to lament
Which yet when present, gave us no content?

Is this the thing we so extoll,
For which we would prolong our breath?
Do we for this long life a blessing call
And tremble at the name of death?
Sots that we are to think by that we gain
Which is as well retain'd as lost with pain.

Is it for this that we adore
Physicians, and their art implore?
Do we bless nature's liberal supply
Of helps against mortality?
Sure 'tis but vain the Tree of Life to boast
When Paradise, wherein it grew, is lost.

Ye powers, why did you man create
With such insatiable desire?
If you'd endow him with no more estate
You should have made him less aspire.
But now our appetites you vex and cheat
With real hunger, and phantastick meat.