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Occasional verse, moral and sacred

Published for the instruction and amusement of the Candidly Serious and Religious [by Edward Perronet]

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THE INFIDEL ARRAIGNED.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

THE INFIDEL ARRAIGNED.

Or Thoughts on Job xi. 7.

I

Can'st thou by searching find out god,
Th'Almighty to perfection know?
What! can'st thou scale His high abode,
And trace Him in the depth below?

II

Can'st thou his His nature, or His name,
That only to Himself are known,
Explore, and then announce the same,
As thou with Him alike wert one?

III

Can'st thou his goings-forth declare,
And meet him in His high return?
Whose chariot-wheels as lightning are,
While blazing comets cease to burn.

133

IV

Can'st thou elude his searching eye,
That penetrates the shades of night,
Or chase the darkness of the sky,
By driving on the car of light?

V

Can'st thou the thunder's voice outroar,
Or with thy arm the winds control?
Hast thou o'er nature's lord the power?
Is she thy slave, or thou her soul?

VI

Can'st thou the human heart explore,
Its bias warp, or traits define?
Or knowest thou its thoughts before
Its act determine they were thine?

VII

Can'st thou a kingdom bind in chains
Of bondage or captivity;
Fix the duration of its pains,
And then remit the penalty?

VIII

Know'st thou the height of Mercy's throne,
Her care how vast, her love how great?
Can'st thou her rich designs make known,
Or drive her from the judgment seat?

IX

Can'st thou the hearts of monarchs change,
Or tyrants from their purpose move,
Their acts to ends unthought arrange,
Or force an enemy to love?

134

X

Pray which of these can'st thou perform,
Thou boaster of created skill?
Go, reptile, to thy Lord—the worm,
And match with mules thy stubborn will.

XI

Call thy self “nothing” in his sight,
Save only what his will shall make:
Whose eye's the fountain of thy light,
And who to be thy being spake.

XII

Thine ignorance own, thy pride confess,
That made thee think thyself a God;
As much devoid of strength as grace,
Fit subject of His anger's rod.

XIII

Go then, and fall before His feet,
Before whose feet archangels fall;
There shalt thou find the martyrs' seat,
And shout, with them, “The lord of All!”