Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Chance.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Chance.
See God. Providence.
If
Chance these Things bestow'd, and rules the Whole,
Why do the Signs in constant Order roll?
Observe set Times to shut and ope' the Day,
Find the same Track, nor once mistake their Way?
Why thro' their Course, as if by Laws confin'd,
Haste none away, and leave the rest behind?
Why in the Summer do we always spy,
The self-same Stars by Night, adorn the Sky?
Why do, each Winter, constantly, again
Others return to gild the azure Plain?
Why ev'ry Day does Phœbus' cheering Flame,
Shew the same World, and leave it still the same?—
Why do the Signs in constant Order roll?
Observe set Times to shut and ope' the Day,
Find the same Track, nor once mistake their Way?
Why thro' their Course, as if by Laws confin'd,
Haste none away, and leave the rest behind?
Why in the Summer do we always spy,
The self-same Stars by Night, adorn the Sky?
Why do, each Winter, constantly, again
Others return to gild the azure Plain?
Why ev'ry Day does Phœbus' cheering Flame,
Shew the same World, and leave it still the same?—
And that the Sun ne'er drives the rising Day
From North to South, nor leaves the beaten Way:
That still at Night he hastens down the West,
Nor ever turns his Horses towards the East:
That Light, by just Degrees, the Moon adorns,
First shews, then bends, then fills her borrow'd Horns:
And that the Stars in constant Order roll,
Nor fall, nor change their Distance from the Pole,
Is not the Work of Chance; but speaks aloud
The wise and steady Conduct of a God.—
From North to South, nor leaves the beaten Way:
That still at Night he hastens down the West,
Nor ever turns his Horses towards the East:
That Light, by just Degrees, the Moon adorns,
First shews, then bends, then fills her borrow'd Horns:
And that the Stars in constant Order roll,
Nor fall, nor change their Distance from the Pole,
Is not the Work of Chance; but speaks aloud
The wise and steady Conduct of a God.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |