Page:Surprising adventures and sufferings of Frederick Baron Trenck.pdf/23

23 THE COMMON LOT.

in the flight of ages past, There liv’d a man;—and who was he? Mortal! howe’er thy lot be cast, That man resembles thee.

Unknown the regions of his birth, The land in which he died unknown; His name hath perish’d from the earth, This truth survives alone;

That joy, and grief, and hope, and fear, Alternate triumph’d in his breast; His bliss and woe,—a smile, a tear; ---Oblivion hides the rest.

The bounding pulse, the languid limb, The changing spirits rise and fall; We know that these were felt by him, For these are felt by all.

He suffer’d—but his pangs are o’er; Enjoy’d,—but his delights are fled; Had friends—his friends are now no more, And foes—his foes are dead.

He lov’d, but whom he lov’d the grave Hath lost in its unconscious womb: O! she was fair! but nought could save Her beauty from the tomb.

The willing seasons day and night, Sun, moon, and stars, the earth and main,