Classic Poem

Vain man would be esteemed wise;
But who, alas! can tell
The place where understanding stays,
Or where does wisdom dwell?

Nay, wisdom's price, and worth renown'd,
Dull mortals do not know;
Nor is the precious treasure found,
When search'd for here below.

The land exclaiming, says aloud,
Ah! never was I bless'd
To be the lodging or abode
Of this celestial guest.

The sea and swelling waves in rage,
With roaring voice declare,
In vain ye seek to find the sage
And sacred stranger here.

Th' infernal deep, with voice austere,
And with a hollow sound,
Cries out, There's no apartment here,
For wisdom, under ground.

Th' inestimable bliss was ne'er
With gold of Ophir bought:
In price with it the onyx rare
And sapphires stand for nought.

Rich jewels, pearls, and diamonds choice,
In crowns that draw regard,
And rubies fine, are worthless toys
With this fine gem compar'd.

Who then, by learning, is in the case
To shew whence wisdom flows?
And who the happy dwelling-place
Of understanding knows?

Since close 'tis hid from all the eyes
Of creatures every-where,
That tread the earth, or cut the seas,
Or wing the lucid air.

Death and destruction's caves profound,
Cry, Here she never came,
Only our ears have heard the sound
Of her immortal fame.

Alone the glorious and the great,
All-penetrating God,
Knows his own offspring's hidden seat,
True wisdom's blessed abode.

For he, from off the height immense
Of heav'n's bright crystal-brow,
Surveys in all its vast expanse,
The universe below.

He distant ages, regions, isles,
Views with omniscient eyes;
And in exactly poising scales
Both winds and water weighs.

When he decreed the measure just,
And manner of the rain;
When he a way for thunder first
And light'ning did ordain.

Then saw he wisdom where it shin'd,
And did its home declare;
He search'd his own all-seeing mind
And found it only there.

But then to man (from whom he hid
His secret will and way,
Yet duty to him open laid)
Thus did Jehovah say,

Behold, to fear the Lord, and still
From evil to depart;
This, this is wisdom; this is skill;
Yea, this is heav'nly art.

Let me attempt to know no more
Than God most high reveals;
Nor boldly search for secret store,
He in his breasts conceals.

On this abyss they safest are
That keep along the shore,
Distrust their wit, and from afar
This awful deep adore.

In being godly found in Christ,
Man's endless profit lies:
If thou art righteous, thou art blest;
If holy, thou art wise.