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In nature's channel, thus the questions run.

“What am I? and from whence ?—I nothing know, "But that I am; and, fince I am, conclude 1450 "Something eternal: had there e'er been nought, Nought ftill had been: eternal there must be.-"But what eternal?-Why not human race? "And Adam's ancestors without an end?"That's hard to be conceiv'd; fince every link 1455 "Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail ; "Can every part depend, and not the whole? "Yet grant it true; new difficulties rife ; "I'm still quite out at fea; nor fee the shore. “Whence earth, and these bright orbs ?—Eternal too ? "Grant matter was eternal; ftill these orbs. "Would want fome other father;-much defign "Is feen in all their motions, all their makes ; "Defign implies intelligence, and art;

"That can't be from themselves—or man; that art 1465 "Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow? "And nothing greater yet allow'd than man.— "Who, motion, foreign to the smallest grain, "Shot through vast masses of enormous weight? "Who bid brute matter's reftive lump affume "Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly? "Has matter innate motion? then each atom,

"Afferting its indisputable right

1479

"To dance, would form an universe of duft: "Has matter none? Then whence these glorious forms "And boundless flights, from bapeless, and repos'd? "Has matter more than motion? has it thought,

"Judgment,

"Judgment, and genius? is it deeply learn'd "In mathematics? Has it fram'd fuch laws, "Which but to guefs, a Newton made immortal?--1486 "If so, how each sage atom laughs at me, "Who think a clod inferior to a man!

"If art, to form; and counsel, to conduct; "And that with greater far, than human skill; "Refides not in each block ;-a Godhead reigns.-1485

"Grant, then, invifible, eternal, Mind;

"That granted, all is folv'd.-But, granting that, "Draw I not o'er me a still darker cloud?

"Grant I not that which I can ne'er conceive?

"A being without origin, or end !

1490

"Hail, human liberty! There is no God—

"Yet, why? On either scheme that knot fubfifts "Subfift it must, in God, or human race;

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"If in the laft, how many knots befide, • Indissoluble all?—Why chufe it there,

"Where, chofen, still fubfift ten thousand more? Reject it, where, that chofen, all the rest

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Difpers'd, leave reason's whole horizon clear? "This is not reafon's dictate; reason fays,

"Clofe with the fide where one grain turns the fcale; 1500 "What vaft preponderance is here! can reason "With louder voice exclaim-Believe a God? "And reason heard, is the fole mark of man. "What things impoffible must man think true, "On any other system! and how strange "To disbelieve, through mere credulity!" If, in this chain, Lorenzo finds no flaw,

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1505

Let

Let it for ever bind him to belief.

1510

And where the link, in which a flaw he finds?
And, if a God there is, that God how great!
How great that power, whose providential care
Through these bright orbs' dark centres darts a ray!
Of nature univerfal threads the whole!

And hangs creation, like a precious gem,

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Though little, on the footftool of his throne !
That little gem, how large! a weight let fall
From a fixt star, in ages can it reach
This distant earth! Say, then, Lorenzo! where,
Where, ends this mighty building? Where, begin
The fuburbs of Creation? Where, the wall
Whofe battlements look o'er into the vale
Of non-existence? Nothing's ftrange abode!
Say, at what point of space Jehovah dropp'd
His flacken'd line, and laid his balance by ;
Weigh'd worlds, and measur'd infinite, no more? 1525
Where, rears his terminating pillar high

Its extra-mundane head? and fays, to gods,
In characters illuftrious as the fun,

"I ftand, the plan's proud period; I pronounce
"The work accomplish'd; the creation clos'd: 1530
Shout, all ye gods! nor fhout ye gods alone;
"Of all that lives, or, if devoid of life,

"That refts, or rolls, ye heights, and depths refound! "Refound! refound! ye depths, and heights, refound!” Hard are thofe questions !-Answer harder ftill. 1535 Is this the fole exploit, the single birth,

The folitary fon of power divine?

Or

Or has th' Almighty Father, with a breath,
Impregnated the womb of diftant space?
Has He not bid, in various provinces,
Brother-Creations the dark bowels burst
Of night primæval;, barren, now, no more?
And He the central fun, tranfpiercing all
Thofe giant-generations, which disport,
And dance, as motes, in his meridian ray ;
That ray withdrawn, benighted, or absorb'd,
In that abyss of horror, whence they sprung;
While Chaos triumphs, repossest of all
Rival creation ravish'd from his throne?
Chaos! of nature both the womb, and

"grave!

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Think'st thou my scheme, Lorenzo, spreads too wide?

Is this extravagant. ?—No; this is just ;

Juft, in conjecture, though 't were falfe in fact.

If 'tis an error, 'tis an error fprung.

From noble root, high thought of the Moft-High. 1555 But wherefore error? who can prove it tuch ?—

He that can fet Omnipotence a bound.

Can man conceive beyond what God can do?
Nothing, but quite impossible is hard.

He fummons into being, with like ease,

A whole creation, and a fingle grain.

1560

Speaks he the word? a thousand worlds are born!

A thousand worlds? there's space for millions more ;

And in what space can his great fiat fail?
Condemn me not, cold critic! but indulge

The warm imagination: why condemn ? ·

1565

Why not indulge fuch thoughts, as fwell our hearts.

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With fuller admiration of that power,

Who gives our hearts with fuch high thoughts to swell?
Why not indulge in His augmented praise ?
Darts not His glory a still brighter ray,

The lefs is left to Chaos, and the realms
Of hideous night, where fancy ftrays aghast;

1570

And, though most talkative, makes no report?
Still feems my thought enormous? Think again;-1575
Experience 'felf fhall aid thy lame belief.

Glaffes (that revelation to the fight!)
Have they not led us in the deep disclofe
Of fine-spun nature, exquifitely small,
And, though demonftrated, still ill-conceiv'd?

1580

If, then, on the reverfe, the mind would mount
In magnitude, what mind can mount too far,
To keep the balance, and creation poise?
Defect alone can err on such a theme;
What is too great, if we the cause survey?

Stupendous Architect! Thou, Thou art all!
My foul flies up and down in thoughts of Thee,
And finds herself but at the centre ftill!
I Am, thy name! existence, all thine own!
Creation's nothing; flatter'd much, if styl'd
"The thin, the fleeting atmosphere of God."

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O for the voice-of what? of whom ?-What voice Can answer to my wants, in such ascent,

As dares to deem one univerfe too fmall ?
Tell me, Lorenzo! (for now fancy glows,
Fir'd in the vortex of Almighty power)
Is not this home creation, in the map

1595

Of

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