Full Lyrics
(Seneca, translated by John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester)
After Death nothing is and nothing Death,
The utmost limits of a gasp of breath.
Let th’ambitious zealot lay aside
his hopes of Heav’n (whose Faith is but his pride).
Let slavish souls lay by their fear,
nor be concern’d which way or where
after this life they shall be hurl’d.
Dead, we become the lumber of the world
And to that mass of matter shall be swept
Where things destroy’d with things unborn are kept.
Devouring Time swallows us whole.
Impartial Death confounds Body and Soul.
For Hell and the foul fiend that rules
The everlasting fiery Geols,
Devised by Rogues, dreaded by Fools,
With his grim grisly dog that keeps the Door
Are senseless stories, idle tales,
Dreams, whimsies and no more.
