昏暗,借会梁lo的月亮和星星nely, weary, wand'ring travellers, Is reason to the soul; and as on high, Those rolling fires discover but the sky Not light us here; so reason's glimmering ray Was lent not to assure our doubtful way, But guide us upward to a better day. And as those nightly tapers disappear When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere So pale grows reason at religion's sight: So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. Some few, whose lamp shone brighter, have been led From cause to cause, to Nature's secret head; And found that one first principle must be: But what, or who, that Universal He; Whether some soul incompassing this ball Unmade, unmov'd; yet making, moving all; Or various atoms' interfering dance Leapt into form (the noble work of chance;) Or this great all was from eternity; Not even the Stagirite himself could see; And Epicurus guess'd as well as he: As blindly grop'd they for a future state; As rashly judg'd of Providence and Fate: But least of all could their endeavours find What most concern'd the good of human kind. For happiness was never to be found; But vanish'd from 'em, like enchanted ground. One thought content the good to be enjoy'd: This, every little accident destroy'd: The wiser madmen did for virtue toil: A thorny, or at best a barren soil: In pleasure some their glutton souls would steep; But found their line too short, the well too deep; And leaky vessels which no bliss could keep. Thus anxious thoughts in endless circles roll, Without a centre where to fix the soul: In this wild maze their vain endeavours end: How can the less the greater comprehend? Or finite reason reach infinity? For what could fathom God were more than He. The Deist thinks he stands on firmer ground; Cries [lang g]eur{-e}ka[lang e] the mighty secret's found: God is that spring of good; supreme, and best; We, made to serve, and in that service blest; If so, some rules of worship must be given; Distributed alike to all by Heaven: Else God were partial, and to some deny'd The means his justice should for all provide. This general worship is to PRAISE, and PRAY: One part to borrow blessings, one to pay: And when frail Nature slides into offence, The sacrifice for crimes is penitence. Yet, since th'effects of providence, we find Are variously dispens'd to human kind; That vice triumphs, and virtue suffers here, (A brand that sovereign justice cannot bear;) Our reason prompts us to a future state: The last appeal from fortune, and from fate: Where God's all-righteous ways will be declar'd; The bad meet punishment, the good, reward. Thus man by his own strength to Heaven would soar: And would not be oblig'd to God for more. Vain, wretched creature, how art thou misled To think thy wit these god-like notions bred! These truths are not the product of thy mind, But dropt from Heaven, and of a nobler kind. Reveal'd religion first inform'd thy sight, And reason saw not, till faith sprung the light. Hence all thy natural worship takes the source: 'Tis revelation what thou think'st discourse. Else how com'st thou to see these truths so clear, Which so obscure to heathens did appear? Not Plato these, nor Aristotle found: Nor he whose wisdom oracles renown'd. Hast thou a wit so deep, or so sublime, Or canst thou lower dive, or higher climb? Canst thou, by reason, more of God-head know Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero? Those giant wits, in happier ages born, (When arms, and arts did Greece and Rome adorn) Knew no such system; no such piles could raise Of natural worship, built on pray'r and praise, To one sole God. Nor did remorse, to expiate sin, prescribe: But slew their fellow creatures for a bribe: The guiltless victim groan'd for their offence; And cruelty, and blood was penitence. If sheep and oxen could atone for men Ah! at how cheap a rate the rich might sin! And great oppressors might Heaven's wrath beguile By offering his own creatures for a spoil! Dar'st thou, poor worm, offend Infinity? And must the terms of peace be given by thee? Then thou art justice in the last appeal; Thy easy God instructs thee to rebel: And, like a king remote, and weak, must take What satisfaction thou art pleas'd to make. But if there be a pow'r too just, and strong To wink at crimes, and bear unpunish'd wrong; Look humbly upward, see his will disclose The forfeit first, and then the fine impose: A mulct thy poverty could never pay Had not Eternal Wisdom found the way: And with celestial wealth supply'd thy store: His justice makes the fine, his mercy quits the sco