We push time from us, and we wish him back; * * * * * * Life we think long and short; death seek and shun.
Wishing of all employments is the worst
The spirit walks of every day deceased.
Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow.
Body and soul, like peevish man and wife, United jar, and yet are loth to part.
Creation sleeps! 'T is as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,- An awful pause! prophetic of her end.