152
AMYNTAS.
CHORUS.
How different are the powers of love, and death;
This robs the bosom of its vital breath;
It takes all sense, all imagery away,
And leaves the body cold, impassive clay.
But that the quintessence of life inspires,
And mortals with celestial rapture fires;
Life without love but ill deserves it's name,
To full existence love exalts the frame;
The wondering mind with new ideas fills,
Quickens each sense, and in each atom thrills;
Creation only half produces man,
And Cupid finishes what Jove began.
Custom with nature death hath taught to jar,
Death's harvest is the monstrous work of war;
How different are the powers of love, and death;
This robs the bosom of its vital breath;
It takes all sense, all imagery away,
And leaves the body cold, impassive clay.
But that the quintessence of life inspires,
And mortals with celestial rapture fires;
Life without love but ill deserves it's name,
To full existence love exalts the frame;
The wondering mind with new ideas fills,
Quickens each sense, and in each atom thrills;
Creation only half produces man,
And Cupid finishes what Jove began.
Custom with nature death hath taught to jar,
Death's harvest is the monstrous work of war;
But
