HOPE humbly then, with trembling Pinions four.
Wait the great teacher Death, and God adore.
WAKE, my ST JOHN! leave all meaner things
To low ambition, and the pride of Kings.
Let us (fince Life can-little more supply
Than just to look about us, and to die)
Expatiate free o'er all this fcene of Man;
A mighty maze! but not without a plan;
A Wild, where weeds and flow'rs promifcuous fhoot;
Or Garden tempting with forbidden fruit.
Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield,
The latent tracts, the giddy heights, explore
Of all who blindly creep, or fightless soar;
Eye Nature's walks, fhoot Folly as it flies,
And catch the Manners living as they rife
Laugh where we muft, be candid where we can;
But vindicate the ways of God to Man
I. Say first, of God above, or Man below,
'What can we reafon but from what we know?
Of Man, what fee we but his ftation here,
From which to reason, or to which refer?
Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known,
'Tis ours to trace him only in our own. He, who thro' vaft immensity can pierce,
See worlds on worlds compofe one univerfe,
Obferve how system into system runs,
What other planets circle other funs,
What vary'd Being peoples every star,
"May tell why Heaven has made us as we are.
But of this frame the bearings and the ties,
The strong connections, nice dependencies,
Gradations juft, has thy pervading Soul
Look'd thro'? or can a part contain the whole?
Is the great chain, that draws all to agree,
And drawn fupports, upheld by God, or thee?
H. Prefumptuous Man! the reafon wouldst thou find
Why form'd fo weak, fo little, and fo blind?
First, if thou canft, the harder reafon guess,
Why formed no weaker, blinder, and no lefs?
Afk of thy mother earth, why oaks are made
Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade? 40 Or afk of yonder argent fields above,
Why Jove's Satellites are lefs than Jove?
Of Systems poffible, if 'tis confeft
That Wisdom infinite must form the best,
Where all muft full or not coherent be,
And all that rifes, rife in due degree;
Then, in the scale of reas'ning life, 'tis plain,
There must be, fomewhere, fuch a rank as Man:
And all the queftion (wrangle e'er fo long)
Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong?
Refpecting Man, whatever wrong we call,
May, must be right, as relative to all.
In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain,
A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain;
In God's, one fingle can its end produce;
Yet ferves to fecond too fome other ufe.
Where flaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Chriftians thirst for gold.
To Be, contents his natural defire,
He afks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,
His faithful dog fhall bear him company.
IV. Go, wiser thou! and, in thy fcale of sense,
Weigh thy Opinion against Providence ;
Call imperfection what thou fancy'st such,
Say, here he gives too little, there too much :
Destroy all creatures for thy fport or guft,
Yet cry, If Man's unhappy, God's unjust
If Man alone ingrofs not Heav'n's high care,
Alone made perfect here, immortal there :
Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,
Re-judge his juftice, be the God of God.
In Pride, in reas'ning Pride, our error lies;
All quit their fphere, and rush into the fkies.
Pride ftill is aiming at the bleft abodes,
Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods.
Afpiring to be Gods, if Angels fell,
Afpiring to be Angels, Men rebel :
And who but wishes to invert the laws
Of ORDER, fins against th' Eternal Cause.
After ver. 118. in the firft Edition.
But does he fay the Maker is not good,
Till he's exalted to what ftate he wou'd:
Himself alone high heav'n's peculiar care,
Alone made happy when he will; and where?
V. Ask for what end the heav'nly bodies fhine, Earth for whofe use? Pride anfwers, " 'Tis for mine: "For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, "Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r; "Annual for ine, the grape, the rose renew "The juice nectareous, and the baliný dew; "For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings; "For me health guihes from a thousand springs;
Seas roll to waft me, funs to light me rife; "My foot-ftool earth, my canopy the skies.
But errs, not Nature from this gracious end, From burning funs when livid deaths defcend, When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweep. Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep? "No ('tis reply'd) the firft Almighty Caufe "Acts not by Partial, but by gen'ral laws;
Th' exceptions few; fone change fince all began:"And what created perfect? "-Why then Man? If the great end be human Happiness,
Then Nature deviates; and can Man do lefs? 150
As much that end a conftant course requires
Of fhow'rs and fun-fhine, as of Man's defires;
As much eternal fprings and 'cloudless skies,
As men for ever temp'rate, calm, and wife.
If plagues or earthquakes break not Heav'n's defign,
Why then a Borgia, or a Cataline?
Who knows but he, whofe hand the lightning forms, Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the ftorms; Pours fierce Ambition in a Cæfar's mind,
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind?
|