The Vision,

Written in a dangerous fit of Sickness.

DIssolv'd in Sleep neer a complaining Stream,
My Fancy strove with an important Dream.
Me-thought I was with Violence born away
Through a dark Vault, whose Cavern did convey
To Death's sad Courts; the brazen Gates I past,
Which on my entrance were again made fast.
The dismal Cell with horrour I survey'd,
For dead mens Bones in Piles were round me laid,
And Skulls of largest size the Pavement made.
The Sun to this dark Mansion darts no Ray,
But glim'ring Lamps make an imperfect Day:
By their faint Light I searcht the Cave around,
And in each Nook amazing Objects found.
In a long Row stood Glasses stor'd with Sand,
Which of some Mortals years the Tale contain'd:
His or Her Name the bloody Letters spell'd,
The Number of whose years the Hour-glass held.
Grim Fate stood by to watch the hindmost Grain,
And cut the slender Thread of Life in Twain;
Then down the Tablet dropt t'a stream below,
Suppos'd from the Lethaean Lake to flow:
A while it floated 'till born Under-ground,
'Twas in th' Abyss of deep Oblivion drown'd.
Whilst into Fate's Arcanas thus I pry'd,
My own Name on a Tablet I descry'd.
But oh the Pangs and Agonies that rent
My panting Breast to find my Glass neer spent!
The Tragick Scene begins (Forgive me Fate
That thy occult Proceedings I Relate.)
Strait was I summond to receive my Doom,
For Death with horrid Grace approacht the Room
Array'd majestick in a mourning Robe,
A Dart his Scepter, and a Skull his Globe. 
He sat, th' Attendants on his Person stood,
All arm'd for Slaughter, and distain'd with Blood.
Diseases next were plac't a numerous Train,
Producing each a Bed-roll of his slain.
No sooner were my scatter'd Thoughts restor'd,
But I with mental Pray'rs Heav'ns Aid implor'd;
Then thus with hollow Voice the Tyrant spoke —
In vain fond Youth Heav'ns succour you invoke,
Stand to the Bar, and hear th'Inditement read;
For ere Thou dy'st Thou art allow'd to Plead:
Thy Charge is deep, but for thy self Reply,
Oh I am Guilty and deserve to Dye!
My years in Vanity's pursuit I spent,
Too oft Transgrest, too rarely did Repent;
Some Vices (Heav'n Assisting) I supprest,
And lasting War proclaim'd with all the Rest;
But oft i'th' Combat I shrunk back and fled,
By Passions oft surpriz'd and Captive led.
But are this Courts Proceedings so severe,
That Youth can Challenge no Indulgence Here?
Had Fate my Life to Manlier years promov'd,
Perhaps my Skill and Courage had improv'd:
Mortal thy Doom already is decreed,
(The Iudge reply'd) and Sentence must proceed!
This Court's Records with Instances abound
Of Younger Brows than Thine with Lawrel crown'd,
Approach ye Ministers of Fate, and bear
Th'Offender Hence to th'Region of Despair,
In Liquid Flames of Sulphur let him roul,
In sharpest Agonies of a Hell-wreckt Soul:
Thus let him howl Eternity Away,
Refresht with no short Glimps of Heav'nly Day.
Confusion now my Tortur'd Bosom fill'd;
Cold Sweat adown my Lifeless joynts distill'd.
A Guard of Daemons at the Tyrant's call
With hideous Yellings rusht into the Hall
Monstrous of Shape, of Size, Prodigious Tall.
In this Distress behold a Heav'nly Ray,
Around me did his chearful Light display.
The Lamps grew pale and shrunk into their Case,
The frighted Daemons Vanisht from the Place;
The haughty Tyrant's Self confus'd appear'd;
Mongst the dead Bones a rattling Noise was heard,
As Summon'd to the Universal Doom,
They justled with each other in their Tomb.
Not daring yet to hope Relief I spy'd
My Guardian-Angel smiling by my side;
A silent joy through all my Vitals ran,
Whilst Thus in Charming Language He began.
Rejoyce my charge, for from Heav'ns Court I come
With gracious Orders to Revoke thy Doom.
Thy Sun is set, thy Life-glass almost run,
Thy Virtue's Race imperfectly begun.
But Heav'n in Pitty to thy sickly Pace,
Has Lincenc'd me or to contract the space,
Or on my Wing thy lingring Spirit convey
To Blissful Mansions of Eternal Day.
To Heav'n and Him my Humblest Thanks I paid,
And beg'd to be to those glad Seats convey'd;
But first admit the Lot of all Man-kind
And Leave (said He) that Load of Earth behind,
Pris'ners Absolv'd, less gladly quit their Chain
Than I this Flesh that did my Spirit detain.
But when my Soul her naked Self Survey'd,
Leaprous and soul by Sin's Contagion made,
She Blusht and sought to cover her Disgrace,
Retreating back into her Fleshy case.
The Guardian-Spirit her sond Attempr with-stood,
And streight with Hyssop dipt in Sacred Blood,
Baptiz'd Her; and behold, whilst I enquir'd
Th'Intent o'th' Ceremony, I grew inspir'd
With mental joys, and now descry'd no more
Those Blemishes that stain'd my Soul before:
Thought of New Worlds my Mind had so ingrost,
That all Remembrance of the Old it Lost:
That Body too (which once I fondly thought
Cou'd never be from my Remembrance wrought)
Had now quite scapt my Mem'ry, till I spy'd
The pale and Lifeless Engine by my side.
Bless me (said I) what ghastly thing lies there?
Was this the Mansion where so many a year,
I lingred 'twixt successive Hope and Fear?
Was this the Thing I took such Care t'improve,
Taught it to Cringe, and in just measures move?
The thing that lately did in Business sweat,
That talkt so much of being Rich and Great!
That sought with Verse to make its Love renown'd,
And hop't ere long to see its Passion Crown'd;
Behold where the designing Machine lies,
Prey to those Insects it did once Despise.
Suppose that Body now lay cover'd ore
In Persumes brought from Ormus Spicie Shore;
What courteous Female wou'd vouchsafe the Grace
To Curl those Locks, or Kiss that ghastly Face?
Why is the Corpse so long detain'd from Ground,
Tis more than Time those Hands and Feet were bound;
Close the dull Eyes, support the falling Chin,
With grassie Turfs suppress the swelling Skin:
Go, let the Fun'ral Peal be Rung aloud,
In Winding-Sheets th'offensive Carkass shrow'd
And in some Nook the Useless Lumber crow'd.
Insulting Thus I spake, and more had said,
But was by my Assistant Angel stay'd;
My Charge, said he, (these gloomy shades with-drawn)
Behold of Everlasting Day the Dawn:
At th'Entrance to th'Elysian Land (a Grace
Confer'd on Souls when first they arrive the Place)
The Blissful Throng are met to welcome Thee
To their fair World of Immortality. 
He said, and strait his Threatning Wand up-heav'd,
The Neighb'ring Walls obey'd the Stroke and cleav'd;
Such was the Blow giv'n by the Hebrew Guide,
When forcing his Foot-passage through the Tide,
The Waters there Congeal'd and stood in Walls,
The Building here like breaking Water falls.
But now the parting Stones brought Heav'n in View,
When (Fatal Chance!) my rapt'rous Dream withdrew
The grateful slumber from my Temples fell,
Round me I view'd the Grove, and thought it Hell;
Aloud I call'd my Guide! Obligingly
The Ecchoing Rocks kept up th'expiring cry,
But the false Vision fled without Reply.