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But reason heard, and nature well perus’d, At once the dreaming mind is disabus'd. If all we find possefling earth, sea, air, Reflect his attributes who plac'd them there, Fulfil the purpose, and appear design'd Proofs of the wisdom of th' all-feeing mind, 'Tis plain, the creature whom he chose t’invest With kingship and dominion o’er the rest, Receiv'd his nobler nature, and was made Fit for the power in which he stands array'd, That first or last, hereafter if not here, He too might make his author's wisdom clear, Praise him on earth, or, obstinately dumb, Suffer his justice in a world to come. This once believ'd, 'twere logic misapplied To prove a consequence by none denied, That we are bound to cast the minds of youth Betimes into the mould of heav'nly truth, That taught of God they may indeed be wise, Nor ignorantly wand'ring miss the fkies.
In early days the conscience has in most
of thin translucent horn,
Beneath a pane
Points, which unless the Scripture made them plain, The wisest heads might agitate in vain. Oh thou, whom borne on fancy's eager wing Back to the season of life's happy spring, I pleas'd remember, and while mem'ry yet Holds fast her office here, can ne'er forget, Ingenious dreamer, in whose well told-tale Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail, Whose hum'rous vein, strong sense, and simple style, May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile, Witty, and well employ'd, and like thy Lord, Speaking in parables his slighted word, I name thee not, left so despis'd a name Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame; Yet ev'n in transitory life's late day, That mingles all my brown with sober grey, Revere the man, whose Pilgrim marks the road, And guides the Progress of the soul to God. 'Twere well with most, if books that could engage Their childhood, pleas'd them at a riper age ;
The man, approving what had charm’d the boy,
gem of truth from his unguarded foul. The stamp of artless piery, impress’d By kind tuition on his yielding breast, The youth now bearded, and yet pert and raw; Regards with scorn, though once receiv'd with awe; And, warp'd into the labyrinth of lies, That babblers, calld philosophers, devise; Blasphemes his creed, as founded on a plan Replete with dreams, unworthy of a man. Touch but his nature in its ailing part, Affert the native evil of his heart, His pride resents the charge, although the proof * Rise in his forehead, and seem rank enough; Point to the cure, describe a Saviour's cross As God's expedient to retrieve his loss,
See 2 Chron. ch. xxvi. ver. 19.
The young apostare fickens at the view,
How weak the barrier of mere nature proves,
for a consistent part,