University of Virginia Library

Then let my breast more pure sensations prove,
And on just objects fix appropriate love:
First on that God whose wond'rous works I scan,
Next on the noblest of his creatures, man.
A God, the soul of Being, still the same,
Through everlasting days, his deeds proclaim:
Whose arm created where no eye can pierce,
Systems on systems through the universe?
And who propell'd their orbs? in motion keeps?
Say, Atheist! say—whose eye-lid never sleeps?
Whose breath's existence? Omnipresence, space?
And who sustains thy life, blasphemer of his grace?