But age unforc'd falls by her own consent,
As coals to afhes, when the fpirit's spent ;
Therefore to death I with fuch joy resort,
As feamen from a tempest to their port.
Yet to that port ourselves we muft not force,
Before our pilot, nature, fteers our course.
Let us the causes of our fear condemn,
Then death at his approach we shall contemn.
Though to our heat of youth our age feems cold,
Yet, when refolv'd, it is more brave and bold.
Thus Solon to Pififtratus reply'd,

Demanded, on what fuccour he rely'd,
When with fo few he boldly did engage;
He faid, he took his courage from his age.
Then death feems welcome, and our nature kind,
When leaving us a perfect sense and mind,

She (like a workman in his science skill'd)

Pulls down with ease, what her own hand did build. That art which knew to join all parts in one,

Makes the least violent feparation.

Yet though our ligaments betimes grow weak,
We must not force them till themselves they break.
Pythagoras bids us in our station ftand,

Till God, our general, shall us disband.
Wife Solon dying, wifh'd his friends might grieve,
That in their memories he ftill might live.
Yet wifer Ennius gave command to all
His friends, not to bewail his funeral ;
Your tears for fuch a death in vain you spend,
Which strait in immortality shall end.

In death if there be any fenfe of pain,

But a short space, to age it will remain.

On which, without my fears, my wishes wait,
But timorous youth on this should meditate :
Who for light pleasure this advice rejects,
Finds little, when his thoughts he recollects.
Our death (though not its certain date) we know;
Nor whether it may be this night, or no :
How then can they contented live, who fear
A danger certain ? and none knows how near.
They err, who for the fear of death dispute,
Our gallant actions this mistake confute.
Thee, Brutus, Rome's firft martyr I must name,
The Curtii bravely div'd the gulph of flame :
Attilius facrific'd himself, to fave

That faith, which to his barbarous foes he gave;
With the two Scipio's did thy uncle fall,
Rather than fly from conquering Hannibal.
The great Marcellus (who restored Rome)
His greatest foes with honour did intomb.
Their lives how many of our legions threw
Into the breach? whence no return they knew:
Muft then the wife, the old, the learned, fear
What not the rude, the young, th' unlearn'd forbear?
Satiety from all things elfe doth come,

Then life muft to itself grow wearifome.
Those trifles wherein children take delight
Grow naufeous to the young man's appetite;
And from thofe gaieties our youth requires
To exercise their minds, our age retires.

And

And when the last delights of age fhall die,

Life in itself will find fatiety.

Now you, my friends, my sense of death fhall hear,
Which I can well defcribe, for he ftands near.
Your father Lælius, and your's Scipio,

My friends, and men of honour, I did know;
As certainly as we must die, they live
That life which justly may that name receive:
Till from these prisons of our flesh releas'd,
Our fouls with heavy burdens lie opprefs'd;
Which part of man from heaven falling down,
Earth, in her low abyfs, doth hide and drown,
A place fo dark to the cœleftial light,

And pure eternal fire's quite oppofite,
The Gods through human bodies did difperfe
An heavenly foul, to guide this universe ;
That man, when he of heavenly bodies faw
The order, might from thence a pattern draw:
Nor this to me did my own dictates fhow,
But to the old philofophers I owe.

I heard Pythagoras, and those who came

With him, and from our country took their name;
Who never doubted but the beams divine,

Deriv'd from Gods, in mortal breasts did fhine.
Nor from my knowledge did the ancients hide
What Socrates declar'd, the hour he dy'd;
He th' immortality of fouls proclaim'd,
(Whom th' oracle of men the wifeft nam'd)
Why fhould we doubt of that, whereof our fenfe
Finds demonftration from experience?

Our

Our minds are here, and there, below, above;
Nothing that mortal can fo fwiftly move.
Our thoughts to future things their flight direct,
And in an instant all that's past collect.
Reafon, remembrance, wit, inventive art,
No nature, but immortal, can impart.
Man's foul in a perpetual motion flows,
And to no outward cause that motion owes ;
And therefore that, no end can overtake,
Because our minds cannot themfelves forfake.
And fince the matter of our foul is pure,
And fimple, which no mixture can endure
Of parts, which not among themselves agree;
Therefore it never can divided be.

And nature fhews (without philofophy)
What cannot be divided, cannot die.
We ev'n in early infancy difcern,

Knowledge is born with babes before they learn;
Ere they can speak, they find fo many ways
To ferve their turn, and fee more arts than days:
Before their thoughts they plainly can exprefs,
The words and things they know are numberless,
Which nature only, and no art could find,
But what she taught before, she call'd to mind,
These to his fons (as Xenophon records)
Of the great Cyrus were the dying words ;
"Fear not when I depart (nor therefore mourn)
"I fhall be no where, or to nothing turn:
"That foul, which gave me life, was feen by none,
"Yet by the actions it defign'd, was known;

"And

"And though its flight no mortal eye fhall fee,
"Yet know, for ever it the fame fhall be.
"That foul, which can immortal glory give,
"To her own virtues muft for ever live.

"Can you believe, that man's all-knowing mind
"Can to a mortal body be confin'd?

Though a foul foolish prifon her immure

"On earth, fhe (when efcap'd) is wife, and pure, "Man's body, when diffolv'd, is but the fame "With beafts, and muft return from whence it came ; "But whence into our bodies reafon flows, "None fees it, when it comes, or where it goes. "Nothing resembles death fo much as fleep, "Yet then our minds themselves from slumber keep. "When from their fleshly bondage they are free, "Then what divine and future things they fee! "Which makes it most apparent whence they are, "And what they fhall hereafter be, declare." This noble fpeech the dying Cyrus made. Me, Scipio, fhall no argument perfuade, Thy grandfire, and his brother, to whom Fame Gave, from two conquer'd parts o' th' world, their name,

Nor thy great grandfire, nor thy father Paul,

Who fell at Cannæ against Hannibal;

Nor I (for 'tis permitted to the ag'd
To boast their actions) had fo oft engag'd
In battles, and in pleadings, had we thought,
That only Fame our virtuous actions bought;
'Twere better in foft pleasure and repofe
Ingloriously our peaceful eyes to close :

Some