 | Romance and revery |  |
52
A KIND OF PREACHER.
Volumes might be written on the impiety of the pious.—
Herbert Spencer.
Herbert Spencer.
A mighty moral teacher this,
Who deals, with finely flourished arms,
Now in damnation, now in bliss,
Now sweetly comforts, now alarms;
And skilled to clothe each view intense
With pulpit-shaking eloquence!
Who deals, with finely flourished arms,
Now in damnation, now in bliss,
Now sweetly comforts, now alarms;
And skilled to clothe each view intense
With pulpit-shaking eloquence!
Nothing too vague or too sublime
Transcends his confident surmise;
The awful ambuscades of time
Conceal no secrets from his eyes;
The deeps of space he coolly sounds;
He gives eternity its bounds!
Transcends his confident surmise;
The awful ambuscades of time
Conceal no secrets from his eyes;
The deeps of space he coolly sounds;
He gives eternity its bounds!
On nature's plan his looks are bent,
And lo, she teems, we straightway learn,
With special providences meant
For his rare wisdom to discern.
He scorns what science may disclose,
For she but talks of what she knows.
And lo, she teems, we straightway learn,
With special providences meant
For his rare wisdom to discern.
He scorns what science may disclose,
For she but talks of what she knows.
53
Poor science, holding in her hand
A few scant remnants of earth's youth,
And having at her slight command
Nothing more potent than the truth! ...
The sword of fact but ill appals
Where bigotry's great bludgeon falls!
A few scant remnants of earth's youth,
And having at her slight command
Nothing more potent than the truth! ...
The sword of fact but ill appals
Where bigotry's great bludgeon falls!
He lifts aloft his pious gaze;
In holy wrath his features glow;
For all dark sinning souls he prays;
His congregation weeps below.
He sees destruction's giddy brink
Thronged with these rogues who dare to think!
In holy wrath his features glow;
For all dark sinning souls he prays;
His congregation weeps below.
He sees destruction's giddy brink
Thronged with these rogues who dare to think!
But once beneath his throne we sat;
We heard his discourse, word for word;
And God was this, and God was that,
And God was thus and thus, we heard;
Till we, who merely mope and plod,
Envied this bosom-friend of God!
We heard his discourse, word for word;
And God was this, and God was that,
And God was thus and thus, we heard;
Till we, who merely mope and plod,
Envied this bosom-friend of God!
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