As helpless friends who view from shore The labouring ship, and hear the tempest roar, While winds and waves their wishes cross— They stood, while hope and comfort fail, Not to assist, but to bewail 70 The inevitable loss. Relentless tyrant, at thy call How do the good, the virtuous fall! Truth, beauty, worth, and all that most engage, But wake thy vengeance and provoke thy rage. 75 SONG. BY A MAN.—BASSO.—STACCATO.—SPIRITOSO. When vice my dart and scythe supply, How great a king of terrors I! If folly, fraud, your hearts engage, Tremble, ye mortals, at my rage! Fall, round me fall, ye little things, 80 Ye statesmen, warriors, poets, kings; If virtue fail her counsel sage, Tremble, ye mortals, at my rage! MAN SPEAKER. Yet let that wisdom, urged by her example, Teach us to estimate what all must suffer; 85 Let us prize death as the best gift of nature— As a safe inn, where weary travellers, When they have journeyed through a world of cares, May put off life and be at rest for ever. Groans, weeping friends, indeed, and gloomy sables, 90 May oft distract us with their sad solemnity: The preparation is the executioner. Death, when unmasked, shows me a friendly face, And is a terror only at a distance; For as the line of life conducts me on 95 To Death’s great court, the prospect seems more fair. ’Tis Nature’s kind retreat, that’s always open To take us in when we have drained the cup Of life, or worn our days to wretchedness. In that secure, serene retreat, 100 Where all the humble, all the great, Promiscuously recline; Where wildly huddled to the eye, The beggar’s pouch and prince’s purple lie, May every bliss be thine. 105 And ah! bless’d spirit, wheresoe’er thy flight, Through rolling worlds, or fields of liquid light, May cherubs welcome their expected guest; May saints with songs receive thee to their rest; May peace that claimed while here thy warmest love, 110 May blissful endless peace be thine above! SONG. BY A WOMAN.—AMOROSO. Lovely, lasting Peace below, Comforter of every woe, Heav’nly born, and bred on high, To crown the favourites of the sky— 115 Lovely, lasting Peace, appear; This world itself, if thou art here, Is once again with Eden blest, And man contains it in his breast. WOMAN SPEAKER.