Epic, Lyric, and Elegiac Poems of Andreas Libavius

The beasts born for slaughter, as they are the support of miserable life, the ghosts retain, nor do any stars of heaven await the crows, nor does glory touch the fish, or your offspring of the woods, or the souls of the barking ones. He who cherishes the mind led from a divine origin is written among the heavens; all other things will die always: man will live, and will draw the miracles of his old form, without stain and spots, about to shine in the highest Olympus, clearer than the dawn, if crimes do not delay the mind, never soaked in the bloody dew of one who prays. What will it be like, the bird the Phoenix which lets itself into the fire, and sows its own limbs again in the burnt coals? What will it be like, and the grain that grew in the Libyan stalks, and the care of the hoping farmer entrusted to the earth: it does not delay, it vegetates itself in fruitful rains, and with the body corrupted, the inner force resurrects itself, and it is carried into new, not knowing the faces of the old offspring: such is man, whom the tomb, empty of light, took; he returns, and the lover of life revisits the stars. Inspect the annals, and unroll the chronicles of the world: in the first age, did not Jared the son of Mahalalel, second to none in piety and art, seek other fates of life? He climbs into heaven, meriting the commerce of Olympus, alive. The wonderful fabricator Elijah follows him. When the world had already reached its middle years, he is carried on a fire-breathing yoke, breathing above the ether, a great example of life to be after the tombs, although he also dared to recall the youth in the little Sareptas referring to the raising of the widow's son at Sarepta, he showed what the highest force can do. Oh, heart trusting least in the human body, is not God, that God in the pole, whom we saw acting from above, wearing human limbs and faces,