Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 36.djvu/36

18 Pleasure his light wings spreads, and quickly flies, Losses on losses, griefs on griefs arise. The mind from sad remembrance of the past, Is with black melancholy overcast; Sad is the present if no future state, No blissful retribution mortals wait, If fate's decrees the thinking being doom To lose existence in the silent tomb. All may be well; that hope can man sustain, All now is well; 'tis an illusion vain. The sages held me forth delusive light, Divine instructions only can be right. Humbly I sigh, submissive suffer pain, Nor more the ways of Providence arraign. In youthful prime I sung in strains more gay, Soft pleasure's laws which lead mankind astray. But times change manners; taught by age and care Whilst I mistaken mortals' weakness share, The light of truth I seek in this dark state, And without murmuring submit to fate. A caliph once when his last hour drew nigh, Prayed in such terms as these to the most high: "Being supreme, whose greatness knows no bound, I bring thee all that can't in Thee be found; Defects and sorrows, ignorance and woe." Hope he omitted, man's sole bliss below.