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Lettered inside image: "13 | To naked waste; a dreary vale of tears: | The great magician's dead! thou poor pale piece | Of outcast earth--in darkness! what a change | From yesterday! thy darling hope so near, | Long-labour'd prize, O how ambition flush'd | Thy glowing cheek! ambition, truly great, | Of virtuous praise: death's subtle seed within, | Sly, treacherous miner! working in the dark, | Smiled at thy well-concerted scheme, and beckon'd | The worm to riot on that rose so red, | Unfaded ere it fell--one moment's prey! | Man's foresight is conditionally wise; | LORENZO! wisdom into folly turns | Oft, the first instant its idea fair | To lab'ring thought is born: how dim our eye! | *The present moment terminates our sight; | Clouds, thick as those on doomsday, drown the next; | We penetrate, we prophesy in vain: | Time is dealt out by particles; and each, | Ere mingled with the streaming sands of life, | By fate's inviolable oath is sworn | Deep silence, 'where eternity begins'. | By nature's law, what may be, may be now; | There's no prerogative in human hours: | In human hearts what bolder thought can rise, | Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn? | Where is to-morrow?--in another world! | For numbers this is certain; the reverse | Is sure to none; and yet on this perhaps, | This peradventure--infamous for lies,"; lower left: "Pubd. June 27th 1796, by R. Edwards, No. 142 New Bond Street."