OF THE BRUTE CREATION. 
785 
scend into the mighty caverns of the earth, we are reminded of the 
myriads of ages over which Time has waved his plume, and of the 
strange catastrophes which our planet has felt and seen, in order 
that she might enjoy her present state of comparative perfectibility, 
and realize in anticipation the dawning of a golden age. If we 
cast our eyes around, the changes of the seasons illustrate the bright 
hope that is within us of a life renewed beyond the tomb. The 
trees that have faded, and remained dark and grey through the long 
dreary lapse of winter, clothe themselves again in green in the 
spring sunshine, and every leaf and every hue speaks of life. The 
birds that were mute sing again as tunefully as ever ; the flowers 
that were trampled down and faded burst forth once more in fresh- 
ness and beauty ; the streams break from the icy chains that held 
them, and the glorious sun himself comes wandering back from his 
far journey, giving summer and warmth, and fertility and magni- 
ficence, to every thing around. All this we see breathes of the 
same hope ; every thing that we see rekindles into life. 
Through the wide universe’s boundless range 
All that exist, decay, revive, and change, 
No atom torpid or inactive lies. 
A being once created never dies. 
The waning moon, when quench’d in shades of night, 
Renews her youth with all the charms of light ; 
The flowery beauties of the blooming year 
Shrink from the shivering blast and disappear ; 
Yet, warm’d with quick’ning showers of genial rain, 
Spring from their graves, and people all the plain. 
As day the night, and night succeeds the day, 
So death reanimates, so lives decay. 
Like billows on the undulating main 
The swelling fall, the falling swell again. 
Thus on the tide of time inconstant roll 
The dying body and the living soul. 
In every animal inspir’d with breath 
The flowers of life produce the seeds of death. 
The seeds of death, though scatter’d in the tomb, 
Spring with new vigour, vegetate, and bloom. 
All that inhabit ocean, air, or earth, 
From one eternal Sire derive their birth. 
The hand that built the palace of the sky 
Form’d the light wings that decorate a fly. 
The Power that wheels the circling planets round, 
Rears every infant floweret on the ground. 
That Bounty which the mightiesf^eings share, 
Feeds the least gnat that gilds the evening air. 
Thus all the wild inhabitants of woods, 
Children of air, and tenants of the floods, 
All, all are equal, independent, free, — 
And all are heirs of immortality. 
