On Eternal Life

No sooner born than we begin to die,
By Nature taught to cry we know not why;
Till riper years do teach us wicked arts,
To cozen and betray our wanton hearts;
That boldly dare our great Creator brave,
By sinning from our Cradle to our Grave:
Sad fate for Souls, thus destin'd to obey
The various Vices of corrupted Clay!
Involv'd in dangers that we do not fear,
Because the certain ruine seems not near,
Till some diviner light our hearts inform,
How to fail safe in this devouring storm.
Bless'd be that light, which does from terrour free,
And make us Victors in Captivity:
For Souls by Grace enlarg'd, will quickly taste
Such Joys, as no Eternity can waste.
Thus born to live, and yet ordain'd to die,
And live again, is such a mystery,
As only Faith can reach, and shew us how
To out-live Death, by pious living now,
Which will a prepossession take of Bliss.
And such angelical transports as this,
Will such a bless'd celestial Courage give,
We shall be glad to die, that we may live.