« 이전계속 »
The little wick of life's poor shallow lamp
To distant worlds, and trifling in their own.
'Twere well, says one, sage, erudite, profound Terribly arch'd and aquiline his nose, And overbuilt with most impending brows, "Twere well, could you permit the World to live As the world pleases : what's the World to you ? 195 Much. I was vorn of woman, and drew milk As sweet as charity from human breasts. I think, articulate I laugh and weep, And exercise all functions of a man. How then should I and any man that lives
200 Be strangers to each other ? Pierce my vein,
Take of the crimson stream meand'ring there,
210 In arts like yours. I cannot call the swift And perilous lightnings from the angry clouds, And bid them hide themselves in earth beneath ; I cannot analyze the air, nor catch The parallax of yonder luminous point,
215 That seems half quench'd in the immense abyss : Such powers I boast not-neither can I rest A silent witness of the headlong rage, Or heedless folly, by which thousands die, Bone of my bone, and kindred souls to mine. 220
God never meant that man should scale the Heav'ns By strides of human wisdom. In his works, Though wondrous, he commands us in his word To seek him rather where his mercy shines. The mind, indeed, enlightend from above, 225 Views him in all ; ascribes to the grand cause The grand effect; acknowledges with joy His manner, and with rapture tastes his style. But never yet did philosophick tube, That brings the planets home into the eye 230 Of observation, and discovers, else Not visible, his family of worlds, Discover him that rules them ; such a veil Hangs over mortal eyes, blind from the birth, And dark in things divine. Full often too, 235 Our wayward intellect, the more we learn Of nature, overlooks her author more ; From instrumental causes proud to draw Conclusions retrograde, and mad mistake.
But if his word once teach us-shoot a ray
240 Through all the heart's dark chambers, and reveal Truths undiscern'd but by that holy light; Then all is plain. Philosophy, baptiz’d In the pure fountain of eternal love, Has eyes indeed; and viewing all she sees 245 As meant to indicate a God to man, Gives him his praise, and forfeits not her own. Learning has borne such fruit in other days On all her branches: piety has found Friends in the friends of science, and true pray’r 250 Has flow'd from lips wet with Castalian dews. Such was thy wisdom, Newton, childlike sage! Sagacious reader of the works of God, And in his word sagacious. Such, too, thine, Milton, whose genius had angelick wings,
255 And fed on manna ! And such thine, in whom Our British Themis gloried with just cause, Immortal Hale! for deep discernment prais'd, And sound integrity, not more than fan'd For sanctity of manners undefil'd.
260 All flesh is grass, and all its glory fades Like the fair flow'r dishevell’d in the wind; Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream; The man we celebrate must find a tomb, And we that worship him, ignoble graves.
265 Nothing is proof against the gen’ral curse Of vanity that seizos all below. The only amaranthine flow'r on earth Is virtue ; th' only lasting treasure, truth. But what is truth ? 'Twas Pilate's question put 270 To ruth itself, that deign'd him no reply. And wherefore ? will not God impart his light To them that ask it ?-Freely--'tis his joy, His glory, and his nature, to impart. But to the proud, uncandid, insincere,
275 Or negligent inquirer, not a spark. What's that which brings contempt upon a book,
And him who writes it, though the style be neat,
O friendly to the best pursuits of man,
How many self-deluded nymphs and swains,
330 Of silent tears and heart-distending sighs ? Vain tears, alas, and sighs that never find A corresponding tone in jovial souls ! Well-one at least is safe. One shelter'd haro Has never heard the sanguinary yell
335 Of cruel man, exulting in her woes. Innocent partner of my peaceful home, Whom ten long years' experience of my care Has made at last familiar : she has lost Much of her vigilant instinctive dread,
340 Not needful here, beneath a roof like mine. Yes—thou mayst eat thy bread, and lick the hand That feeds thee; thou mayst frolick on the floor At ev'ning, and at night retire secure To thy straw couch, and slumber unalarm'd ;
345 For I have gained thy' confidence, have pledg'd All that is human in me, to protect Thine unsuspecting gratitude and love. If I survive thee, I will dig thy grave; And, when I place thee in it, sighing say, 350 I knew at least one hare that had a friend.*
* See the note ar the end.