The Soul's Farewell To Earth, &C. Poem by Maria Frances Cecilia Cowper

FAREWELL thou restless world, whose unsound joy,
False hopes, and vain pursuits, man's life destroy;
Poison in golden cups thou gav'st to me,
But I no longer have to do with thee.
My soul, uplifted on celestial wing,
Hears Heav'n's high vaults with Hallelujahs ring.
To worlds of blessedness I bend my flight,
And tread th' immortal regions of delight:
Spite of the cumbrous day my thoughts arise,
And, wing'd with rapture, gain the ample skies;
Thence on this earth's inferior surface scan
The specious pleasures of deluded Man,
The glitt'ring gems of time and sense disdain,
And all the tribe of mortal cares, as vain.
Look down, my soul, upon thy prison scene,
That globe of wretchedness, where thou hast been
A pilgrim, toiling o'er the rugged way,
While sin and sorrow mark'd the tedious day;
Where the proud worldling bears despotic power,
And Satan's empire his gay sons adore;
Where dark-ey'd Superstition madly reigns,
And grov'ling Ignorance the soul enchains.
How blest am I, whom Contemplation bears
Above this vale of complicated cares!
Ascend, my soul, uncheck'd thy ready wings,
Stoop not to mingle with created things;
The smiling or the frowning world survey
With calm indifference scene of children's play;
Where all is tinsel, and a transient show,
And nothing lasts but vanity and woe.
Still onward haste, my soul, till, towering high
Above this sphere of dull mortality,
Earth's baneful pleasures at the best may seem
'The baseless fabric' of some idle dream.