The Desire of Knowledge a Proof of Immortality

What is this thinking pow'r, this active mind,
Which nought on earth can satiate, nought can bound?
Restless it roams the wide creation o'er
In search of something more than sense can give.
Whate'er delights, the senses must decline;
'Tis short-liv'd pleasure, momentary joy.
The senses soon are tir'd, and sink to rest.
The mind, unsatisfy'd, looks onward still,
And asks delights more noble and refin'd,
More permanent and full; 'tis knowledge fires
Its ardent wish, and tempts the warm pursuit.
This is the food of minds! 'tis angels' food!
Those happy spirits feast with full delight, —
But here we only taste, and long to feed.
Surely, the mind must be akin to heaven;
For heaven, all-wise, and infinitely good,
Implants not these sublime desires in vain.
If nought below immortal joys can fill
The mind, the mind must be immortal too.
Inquisitive and restless, now she soars
Beyond the narrow bounds of earth and time,
To reach the blissful seats, where knowledge spreads
In rich variety her boundless feast.
But soon she tires, and droops her feeble wing,
Oppress'd with heavy clay, and sinks to earth:
Yet here reluctant stays, though earth allure
With soothing arts and promises of joy.
The gay amusement for a moment smiles
In painted dreams; again the mind awakes,
And starts disdainful from the couch of ease.
Now with expanded wings, again she tempts
The airy flight; but tempts, alas, in vain;
Flutters in wild conjecture's giddy rounds,
Sinks down amid the shades of mortal night,
And mourns her fetters, and her feeble wings.

But hope, dear comforter, relieves her care,
Celestial hope! her smiling presence cheers
The sable gloom, and beams a healing ray:
Her gentle, peace-inspiring whisper bids
Look forward to a nobler, happier state
When minds releas'd from all the chains of flesh,
And all the toys of sense, shall rise enlarged
To perfect freedom and unbounded bliss.