"To die is Gain"

Say'st thou, 'tis gain to die? And may I askHow thou hast weigh'd, and by what process broughtThe Apostle's answer to thy sum of life?Where are thy balances, and whose firm handDid poise therein thy talents and their useTo show such blest result? Time's capitalNeeds well be husbanded, to leave the amountOf gain behind, when at a moment's callThe spirit fleets, and the dissolving fleshYields to the earth-worm's fang.Say, hath thy lipToo often satiate, loath'd the mingled cupSo madly fill'd at Pleasure's turbid stream?Or hath thine ear, the promises of hopeDrank on in giddy sickness, till the touchOf grave philosophy, their emptinessDetected, and to their thin elementOf air, reduc'd? Or doth thy cheated heartSowing its warm affections on the windAnd reaping but the whirlwind, turn with scornFrom every harvest which these changeful skiesCan ripen or destroy? Then hast thou prov'd

The loss of life, but not the gain of death.But hast thou by thy ceaseless prayers obtain'dSuch token of acceptance with thy Lord,So fill'd each post of duty, so sustain'dAll needful discipline, so deeply mourn'dEach burden of iniquity, that DeathComes as a favor'd messenger to leadTo its bright heritage, the willing soul?—Searcher of hearts, thou knowest! Thou aloneThe hidden thought dost read, the daily actNote unforgetful. Take away the drossOf earthly principle, the gather'd filmOf self-deluding hope, the love and hateWhich have their root in dust, until the soulRegarding life and death with equal eyeAbsorbs its will in thine.