20. DEATH. Job 14. [(notes)]
Poor man, of woman born, is child of woe;
His days are few and fill'd with bitter grief,
With cares and pains, from which is no relief,
Till scythe of death shall lay his blossoms low.
The gen'rous tree cut down will once more grow,
And spread its branches after ruin brief
Loaded with fruits almost beyond belief;—
Such pow'r have living roots, that creep below.