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SECT. XXIX. 
THE SEED THE EMBLEM OF THE RESURRECTION 
Thoughts on "beholding a lifeless Body . 
Come, reflection, solemn pow’r, 
From the grot, and from the bow’r; 
From the philosophic cell, 
Where devotion’s wont to dwell, 
And the pure uplifted eye 
Meditates its parent sky; 
Flere, where science courts its ray, « 
From inanimated clay. 
O’er my soul thy influence shed; 
Wake the living by the dead.— 
What a scope for thought is here! 
This is Contemplation’s sphere! 
Lo, the body pale and cold! 
Nature sickens to behold: 
There her workings all are o’er; 
There the lamp of life’s no more. 
Life, what art thou?—fickle breath. 
Is there nothing certain ?—Death. 
Tho’ with pride the bosom glows; 
Tho’ it melt at others’ woes; 
Tho’ the passions all rebel: 
Tho’ in virtue they excel; 
Tho’ by learning’s lore refin’d; 
Tho’ in ignorance the mind; 
Tho’ it pant for worldly toys; 
Tho’ it hope sublimer joys; 
Still precarious is our state, 
Open to impending fate; 
Nought can tyrant Death assuage; 
Youth must fall as well as age. 
Why, alas! then, all our cares, 
All our wishes, all our fears. 
When 'tis out of mortal pow’r 
To insure the present hour ? 
Hush, oh, Muse, suspend the strain! 
All is just the skies ordain: 
Sinks my heart at what I see? 
’Tis but what myself must be! 
3 S 
