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First Line: After a blust'ring tedious night
Last Line: And they whom heaven covers need no tomb.
Alternate Author Name(s): Petronius Arbiter; Tactitus Arbiter Elegantiae


I.

AFTER a blust'ring tedious night,
The wind's now hush'd and the black tempest o'er,
Which th' crazy vessel miserably tore,
Behold a lamentable sight!
Rolling far off, upon a briny wave,
Compassionate Philander spied
A floating carcase ride,
That seem'd to beg the kindness of a grave.

II.

Sad and concern'd, Philander then
Weigh'd with himself the frail, uncertain state
Of silly, strangely disappointed men,
Whose projects are the sport of Fate.
Perhaps (said he) this poor man's desolate wife,
In a strange country far away,
Expects some happy day
This ghastly thing, the comfort of her life;

III.

His son it may be dreads no harm,
But kindly waits his father's coming home;
Himself secure, he apprehends no storm,
But fancies that he sees him come.
Perhaps the good old man, that kiss'd this son,
And left a blessing on his head,
His arms about him spread,
Hopes yet to see him ere his glass be run.

IV.

These are the grand intrigues of Man,
These his huge thoughts, and these his vast desires,
Restless, and swelling like the Ocean
From his birth till he expires.
See where the naked, breathless body lies
To every puff of wind a slave,
At the beck of every wave,
That once perhaps was fair, rich, stout, and wise!

V.

While thus Philander pensive said,
Touch'd only with a pity for mankind,
At nearer view, he thought he knew the dead,
And call'd the wretched man to mind:
Alas, said he, art thou that angry thing,
That with thy looks didst threaten death,
Plagues and destruction breath,
But two days since, little beneath a King!

VI.

Ai me! where is thy fury now,
Thine insolence, and all thy boundless power,
O most ridiculously dreadful thou!
Expos'd for beasts and fishes to devour.
Go, sottish mortals, let your breasts swell high;
All your designs laid deep as Hell,
A small mischance can quell,
Outwitted by the deeper plots of Destiny.

VII.

This haughty lump a while before
Sooth'd up itself, perhaps with hopes of life,
What it would do, when it came safe on shore,
What for its son, what for its wife;
See where the man and all his politics lie.
Ye Gods! what gulfs are set between
What we have and what we ween,
Whilst lull'd in dreams of years to come, we die!

VIII.

Nor are we liable alone
To misadventures on the merciless sea,
A thousand other things our Fate bring on,
And shipwreck'd everywhere we be.
One in the tumult of a battle dies
Big with conceit of victory,
And routing th' enemy,
With garlands deck'd, himself the sacrifice.

IX.

Another, while he pays his vows
On bended knees, and Heaven with tears invokes,
With adorations as he humbly bows,
While with gums the altar smokes,
In th' presence of his God, the temple falls:
And thus religious in vain
The flatter'd bigot slain,
Breathes out his last within the sacred walls.

X.

Another with gay trophies proud,
From his triumphant chariot overthrown,
Makes pastime for the gazers of the crowd,
That envied him his purchas'd crown.
Some with full meals, and sparkling bowls of wine
(As if it made too long delay),
Spur on their fatal day,
Whilst others (needy souls) at theirs repine.

XI.

Consider well, and every place
Offers a ready road to thy long home,
Sometimes with frowns, sometimes with smiling face
Th' embassadors of Death do come.
By open force or secret ambuscade,
By unintelligible ways,
We end our anxious days,
And stock the large plantations of the Dead.

XII.

But (some may say) tis very hard
With them, whom heavy chance has cast away,
With no solemnities at all interr'd,
To roam unburied on the sea:
No -- 'tis all one where we receive our doom,
Since, somewhere, 'tis our certain lot
Our carcases must rot,
And they whom heaven covers need no tomb.





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