But now more serious let me grow,
And what I think, my Memmius, know.
Th' enthusiast's hopes, and raptures wild,
Have never yet my reason foil'd.
His springy soul dilates like air,
When free from weight of ambient care;
And, hush'd in meditations deep,
Slides into dreams, as when asleep;
Then, fond of new discov'ries grown,
Proves a Columbus of her own,
Disdains the narrow bounds of place,
And thro' the wilds of endless space,
Borne up on metaphysic wings,
Chases light forms, and shadowy things;
And in the vague excursion caught,
Brings home some rare exotic thought:
The melancholy man such dreams,
As brightest evidence esteems;
Fain would he see some distant scene
Suggested by his restless spleen,
And fancy's telescope applies
with tinctur'd glass to cheat his eyes.
Such thoughts, as love the gloom of night,
I close examine by the light.
For who, tho' brib'd by gain to lye,
Dare sun-beam written truths deny,
And execute plain common sense
On faiths mere hearsay evidence?
That superstition mayn't create,
And club its ills with those of fate,
I many a notion take to task,
Made dreadful by its visor-mask:
Thus scruple, spasm of the mind,
Is cur'd, and certainty I find;
Since optic reason shews me plain
I dreaded spectres of the brain;
And legendary fears are gone,
Tho' in tenacious childhood sown.
Thus in opinions I commence
Freeholder in the proper sense,
And neither suit nor service do,
Nor homage to pretenders shew,
Who boast themselves by spurious roll
Lords of the manor of the soul;
Preferring sense, from chin that's bare,
To nonsense thron'd in whisker'd hair.
To thee, Creator uncreate!
O Entium Ens divinely great!--
Hold, Muse, nor melting pinions try,
Nor near the blazing glory fly,
Nor straining break thy feeble bow,
Unfeather'd arrows far to throw;
Thro' fields unknown nor madly stray,
Where no ideas mark the way;
With tender eyes, and colours faint,
And trembling hands forbear to paint.
Who features veil'd by light can hit?
Where can, what has no outline, sit?
My soul, the vain attempt forego,
Thyself, the fitter subject, know.
He wisely shuns the bold extreme,
Who soon lays by th' unequal theme,
Nor runs, with wisdom's Sirens caught,
On quick-sand swallowing shipwreckt thought;
But, conscious of his distance, gives
Mute praise, and humble negatives.
In one, no object of our sight,
Immutable and infinite,
Who can't be cruel, or unjust,
Calm and resign'd, I fix my trust;
To him my past and present state
I owe, and must my future fate.
A stranger into life I'm come,
Dying may be our going home,
Transported here by angry fate,
The convicts of a prior state:
Hence I no anxious thoughts bestow
On matters, I can never know.
Thro life's foul ways, like vagrant, pass'd,
He'll grant a settlement at last;
And with sweet ease the wearied crown,
By leave to lay his being down.
If doom'd to dance th' eternal round
Of life, no sooner lost than found;
And dissolution soon to come,
Like spunge, wipes out life's present sum,
But can't our state of pow'r bereave
And endless series to receive:
Then if hard dealt with here by fate,
We ballance in another state,
And consciousness must go along,
And sign th' acquittance for the wrong;
He for his creatures must decree
More happiness than misery,
Or be supposed to create,
Curious to try, what 'tis to hate,
And do an act, which rage infers,
'Cause lameness halts, or blindness errs.
Thus, thus I steer my bark, and sail
On even keel with gentle gale.
At helm I make my reason sit,
My crew of passions all submit.
If dark and blust'ring prove some nights
Philosophy puts forth her lights;
Experience holds the cautious glass,
To shun the breakers, as I pass;
And frequent throws the wary lead,
To see what dangers may be hid
And once in seven years I'm seen
At Bath, or Tunbridge to careen.
Tho' pleas'd to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way;
With store sufficient for relief
And wisely still prepar'd to reef;
Nor wanting the dispersive bowl
Of cloudy weather in the soul,
I make (may heaven propitious send
Such wind and weather to the end)
Neither becalm'd, nor over-blown,
Life's voyage to the world unknown.
And what I think, my Memmius, know.
Th' enthusiast's hopes, and raptures wild,
Have never yet my reason foil'd.
His springy soul dilates like air,
When free from weight of ambient care;
And, hush'd in meditations deep,
Slides into dreams, as when asleep;
Then, fond of new discov'ries grown,
Proves a Columbus of her own,
Disdains the narrow bounds of place,
And thro' the wilds of endless space,
Borne up on metaphysic wings,
Chases light forms, and shadowy things;
And in the vague excursion caught,
Brings home some rare exotic thought:
The melancholy man such dreams,
As brightest evidence esteems;
Fain would he see some distant scene
Suggested by his restless spleen,
And fancy's telescope applies
with tinctur'd glass to cheat his eyes.
Such thoughts, as love the gloom of night,
I close examine by the light.
For who, tho' brib'd by gain to lye,
Dare sun-beam written truths deny,
And execute plain common sense
On faiths mere hearsay evidence?
That superstition mayn't create,
And club its ills with those of fate,
I many a notion take to task,
Made dreadful by its visor-mask:
Thus scruple, spasm of the mind,
Is cur'd, and certainty I find;
Since optic reason shews me plain
I dreaded spectres of the brain;
And legendary fears are gone,
Tho' in tenacious childhood sown.
Thus in opinions I commence
Freeholder in the proper sense,
And neither suit nor service do,
Nor homage to pretenders shew,
Who boast themselves by spurious roll
Lords of the manor of the soul;
Preferring sense, from chin that's bare,
To nonsense thron'd in whisker'd hair.
To thee, Creator uncreate!
O Entium Ens divinely great!--
Hold, Muse, nor melting pinions try,
Nor near the blazing glory fly,
Nor straining break thy feeble bow,
Unfeather'd arrows far to throw;
Thro' fields unknown nor madly stray,
Where no ideas mark the way;
With tender eyes, and colours faint,
And trembling hands forbear to paint.
Who features veil'd by light can hit?
Where can, what has no outline, sit?
My soul, the vain attempt forego,
Thyself, the fitter subject, know.
He wisely shuns the bold extreme,
Who soon lays by th' unequal theme,
Nor runs, with wisdom's Sirens caught,
On quick-sand swallowing shipwreckt thought;
But, conscious of his distance, gives
Mute praise, and humble negatives.
In one, no object of our sight,
Immutable and infinite,
Who can't be cruel, or unjust,
Calm and resign'd, I fix my trust;
To him my past and present state
I owe, and must my future fate.
A stranger into life I'm come,
Dying may be our going home,
Transported here by angry fate,
The convicts of a prior state:
Hence I no anxious thoughts bestow
On matters, I can never know.
Thro life's foul ways, like vagrant, pass'd,
He'll grant a settlement at last;
And with sweet ease the wearied crown,
By leave to lay his being down.
If doom'd to dance th' eternal round
Of life, no sooner lost than found;
And dissolution soon to come,
Like spunge, wipes out life's present sum,
But can't our state of pow'r bereave
And endless series to receive:
Then if hard dealt with here by fate,
We ballance in another state,
And consciousness must go along,
And sign th' acquittance for the wrong;
He for his creatures must decree
More happiness than misery,
Or be supposed to create,
Curious to try, what 'tis to hate,
And do an act, which rage infers,
'Cause lameness halts, or blindness errs.
Thus, thus I steer my bark, and sail
On even keel with gentle gale.
At helm I make my reason sit,
My crew of passions all submit.
If dark and blust'ring prove some nights
Philosophy puts forth her lights;
Experience holds the cautious glass,
To shun the breakers, as I pass;
And frequent throws the wary lead,
To see what dangers may be hid
And once in seven years I'm seen
At Bath, or Tunbridge to careen.
Tho' pleas'd to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way;
With store sufficient for relief
And wisely still prepar'd to reef;
Nor wanting the dispersive bowl
Of cloudy weather in the soul,
I make (may heaven propitious send
Such wind and weather to the end)
Neither becalm'd, nor over-blown,
Life's voyage to the world unknown.