Poems on Several Occasions By Henry Jones |
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An ESSAY on the Weakness of
Human Knowledge, and the Uncertainty of mortal Life.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
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An ESSAY on the Weakness of Human Knowledge, and the Uncertainty of mortal Life.
Of Truths involv'd we vainly boast to know,
Or Secrets sunk in Nature's Womb too low;
Where our short Sight affords a feeble Gleam,
Like flitting Visions in some wand'ring Dream.
There, wrapt in Mazes of Uncertainty,
Suspending Reason doubts her own Decree,
Discerns her Weakness, must her Search confine,
Too dim her Opticks, and too short her Line
To fathom Depths that in thick Darkness lie,
And sink impervious to the mental Eye.
Or Secrets sunk in Nature's Womb too low;
Where our short Sight affords a feeble Gleam,
Like flitting Visions in some wand'ring Dream.
There, wrapt in Mazes of Uncertainty,
Suspending Reason doubts her own Decree,
Discerns her Weakness, must her Search confine,
Too dim her Opticks, and too short her Line
To fathom Depths that in thick Darkness lie,
And sink impervious to the mental Eye.
A thousand Things correct our wanton Pride,
And Doubts on Doubts arise on ev'ry Side:
What are the universal Fabrick's Laws?
Or if Attraction be th'immediate Cause,
That knits the Springs of the revolving Sphere,
Excites its Movements, makes its Parts cohere.
Through yonder Arch a trackless Space explore,
Or mark the Waves on this resounding Shore,
What guides the Stars in their stupendous Course,
Through complex Motion, and contending Force?
How ebbing Seas from shelving Shores subside?
Or circling Cynthia swells the foaming Tide?
What Doors pour forth the furious Northern Blast,
Or bitter Breezes from the chilling East?
Whence sudden Tempests toss the boist'rous Deep,
Or Storms are hush'd, and on its Surface sleep?
How rending Earthquakes make the Mountains rock,
And shrinking Nature feels the dreadful Shock?
Of Gravity the latent Cause reveal;
Why mounts the Smoke, or sinks the show'ry Hail?
How flows the Vein in yonder rocky Rill,
Or flash the Sparkles from the stubborn Steel?
What Instinct moves the parsimonious Ant,
Or dictates to th'unwieldly Elephant?
How Mind and Matter strike such Harmony?
And Will and Motion in one Form agree?
Whence dawn Ideas? Whence Perception's Ray?
Whence gleams the Soul with intellectual Day?
Th'internal Essence of one Atom show:
Then boast of Science, and how much you know.
And Doubts on Doubts arise on ev'ry Side:
What are the universal Fabrick's Laws?
Or if Attraction be th'immediate Cause,
That knits the Springs of the revolving Sphere,
Excites its Movements, makes its Parts cohere.
Through yonder Arch a trackless Space explore,
Or mark the Waves on this resounding Shore,
What guides the Stars in their stupendous Course,
Through complex Motion, and contending Force?
How ebbing Seas from shelving Shores subside?
Or circling Cynthia swells the foaming Tide?
What Doors pour forth the furious Northern Blast,
Or bitter Breezes from the chilling East?
Whence sudden Tempests toss the boist'rous Deep,
Or Storms are hush'd, and on its Surface sleep?
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And shrinking Nature feels the dreadful Shock?
Of Gravity the latent Cause reveal;
Why mounts the Smoke, or sinks the show'ry Hail?
How flows the Vein in yonder rocky Rill,
Or flash the Sparkles from the stubborn Steel?
What Instinct moves the parsimonious Ant,
Or dictates to th'unwieldly Elephant?
How Mind and Matter strike such Harmony?
And Will and Motion in one Form agree?
Whence dawn Ideas? Whence Perception's Ray?
Whence gleams the Soul with intellectual Day?
Th'internal Essence of one Atom show:
Then boast of Science, and how much you know.
Here glimm'ring Reason lights our dubious Way,
This Twilight State forbids a brighter Day:
Through Nature's Mist, lo! Truth appears from far,
To few a fix'd, to more a wand'ring Star:
Their Pole indeed, who sail by Wisdom's Shore;
But lost to those who distant Depths explore;
Whose Rays illusive oft our Sight misguide,
And lessen here what there they magnify'd.
Our Judgments vary as our Passions bend,
Caprice the Motive, and Self-love the End.
Opinion's tinctur'd with Complexion's Stains,
The motley Issue of discordant Brains,
When form'd by Fancy in Affection's Dress,
Their diff'rent Sires in diff'rent Shapes express.
From hence the fierce Polemic Hydra came,
From hence this System, and that Sect took Name:
Hence Epicurus made his Atoms dance,
And hence Descartes thy Physical Romance.
From hence Religion felt the wild Extremes,
The Bigot's Fury, and Enthusiast's Dreams.
By dim Conjectures we indulge our Pride;
Such doubtful Knowledge is a dang'rous Guide:
The winking Glimmer will our Hopes deceive,
Like dying Lamps in some perplexing Cave:
It lights us in while we with Wonder gaze,
But soon extinguish'd in the gloomy Maze,
Bewilder'd where the Lamp no more can burn,
We lose our Labour, and too late return.
This Twilight State forbids a brighter Day:
Through Nature's Mist, lo! Truth appears from far,
To few a fix'd, to more a wand'ring Star:
Their Pole indeed, who sail by Wisdom's Shore;
But lost to those who distant Depths explore;
Whose Rays illusive oft our Sight misguide,
And lessen here what there they magnify'd.
Our Judgments vary as our Passions bend,
Caprice the Motive, and Self-love the End.
Opinion's tinctur'd with Complexion's Stains,
The motley Issue of discordant Brains,
When form'd by Fancy in Affection's Dress,
Their diff'rent Sires in diff'rent Shapes express.
From hence the fierce Polemic Hydra came,
From hence this System, and that Sect took Name:
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And hence Descartes thy Physical Romance.
From hence Religion felt the wild Extremes,
The Bigot's Fury, and Enthusiast's Dreams.
By dim Conjectures we indulge our Pride;
Such doubtful Knowledge is a dang'rous Guide:
The winking Glimmer will our Hopes deceive,
Like dying Lamps in some perplexing Cave:
It lights us in while we with Wonder gaze,
But soon extinguish'd in the gloomy Maze,
Bewilder'd where the Lamp no more can burn,
We lose our Labour, and too late return.
Our prying Eyes would pierce all Nature's Store,
Unlock her Secrets, turn her Treasures o'er:
Yet far within she shuns the searching Ray;
Her mighty Master keeps the mystic Key;
A nearer View's deny'd to mortal Sight;
Newton's transcendent Day must bound in Night.
Unlock her Secrets, turn her Treasures o'er:
Yet far within she shuns the searching Ray;
Her mighty Master keeps the mystic Key;
A nearer View's deny'd to mortal Sight;
Newton's transcendent Day must bound in Night.
Well did eternal Providence ordain,
In Life's short View to make the Prospect plain,
Where Man may answer Nature's wholesome Call,
Enjoy himself, and seek the Good of All:
Where known Effects result from stated Laws,
And loud proclaim the one Eternal Cause;
The Source from whence the vast Creation flows;
The Mind from which ten thousand Systems rose.
In Life's short View to make the Prospect plain,
Where Man may answer Nature's wholesome Call,
Enjoy himself, and seek the Good of All:
Where known Effects result from stated Laws,
And loud proclaim the one Eternal Cause;
The Source from whence the vast Creation flows;
The Mind from which ten thousand Systems rose.
For these wise Ends our Faculties were made;
And God we see through all his Works display'd.
Beyond this Limit Man may spare his Pains,
Nor waste the Vigour of his lab'ring Brains,
In Quest of Truths remote from human Sight,
Which 'scape our Ken, and mock'd the Stagyrite.
The smallest Worm insults the Sage's Hand;
All Gresham's vanguish'd by a Grain of Sand.
The stinted Lot, allow'd to Human Race,
The narrow Bounds of our contracted Space,
Can scarce our Minds with useful Thoughts supply;
Like After-fruits, we just appear and die.
Vain Searches here our Levity proclaim;
By Tempests toss'd, who takes a steady Aim?
When Waves are dashing round the driven Bark,
The Pilot's Danger mocks his nice Remark.
Who would improve that knows no Term to come,
Or purchase Diamonds to adorn a Tomb?
And God we see through all his Works display'd.
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Nor waste the Vigour of his lab'ring Brains,
In Quest of Truths remote from human Sight,
Which 'scape our Ken, and mock'd the Stagyrite.
The smallest Worm insults the Sage's Hand;
All Gresham's vanguish'd by a Grain of Sand.
The stinted Lot, allow'd to Human Race,
The narrow Bounds of our contracted Space,
Can scarce our Minds with useful Thoughts supply;
Like After-fruits, we just appear and die.
Vain Searches here our Levity proclaim;
By Tempests toss'd, who takes a steady Aim?
When Waves are dashing round the driven Bark,
The Pilot's Danger mocks his nice Remark.
Who would improve that knows no Term to come,
Or purchase Diamonds to adorn a Tomb?
By poor Endeavours we solicit Praise,
An empty Idol, which to Pride we raise,
A frail Defence to shield our Names from Death,
A fulsome Vapour made of vulgar Breath.
'Tis Virtue lengthens out our mortal Span,
Immortal Fame shall crown the virtuous Man.
Religion's Eye can soften human Fate,
Whilst Hope, from far, beholds a better State.
If long, or short, it matters not our Stay;
While Reason smooths, and Peace prepares the Way:
This irksome Desart must be travell'd through,
Ere Pisgah's Top, or Canaan's Vales we view.
An empty Idol, which to Pride we raise,
A frail Defence to shield our Names from Death,
A fulsome Vapour made of vulgar Breath.
'Tis Virtue lengthens out our mortal Span,
Immortal Fame shall crown the virtuous Man.
Religion's Eye can soften human Fate,
Whilst Hope, from far, beholds a better State.
If long, or short, it matters not our Stay;
While Reason smooths, and Peace prepares the Way:
This irksome Desart must be travell'd through,
Ere Pisgah's Top, or Canaan's Vales we view.
Men glide, like Bubbles, on the Stream of Time,
Burst as they swell, and vanish in their Prime:
Or floating down the universal Tide,
Encount'ring join, and in the Shock subside.
Burst as they swell, and vanish in their Prime:
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Encount'ring join, and in the Shock subside.
Since God and Nature some wise Purpose plan
In all this lower Word, but most in Man;
A Creature fram'd at such a vast Expence,
Enrich'd with Reason, and adorn'd with Sense;
Why would its Maker's Hand so close confine
To clogging Clay this Particle Divine;
Which outward Casualties can still annoy,
And whose own Motion must itself destroy;
When full-blown Faculties his Genius crown,
Lo! Death assails and lops the Pigmy down:
Why all this Labour on a Thing that must,
As soon as finish'd, fall again to Dust?
Thus reasons Man, whose Reasonings oft are vain,
And sees so little of th'eternal Chain,
From whence contingent Destinies impend,
A Scale of Causes that in God must end,
The mystic Mazes of his own Decree,
In Wonders wrapt which he alone can see.
Yet Man, vile Reptile! with Presumption pries
Where trembling Angels veil their wond'ring Eyes.
Imperious Emmet! know thy native Dust,
Thyself mistaken, and thy Maker just:
Who gives thee Rudiments of Knowledge here,
Then lifts thee upwards to a nobler Sphere;
Above the Stars to take thy high Degree,
And brighten on to all Eternity:
Where Truth, still shining in unclouded Day,
Shall all her Radiance on thy Soul display.
Forbear, vain Man! to murmur at thy Fate,
Nor mourn thy Passage to a better State.
Tho' Nature binds thee to this sordid Spot,
Break from her Bands, and seek a happier Lot:
To God alone let thy Affections tend,
Thy proper Center, and thy final End,
Who out of nothing made the World and thee,
His Wisdom form'd, and Goodness bid it be.
Eternal Wisdom, whilst yet all was Night,
Call'd forth from Chaos his first Creature, Light,
And spread its Splendor o'er the wide Expanse,
Where Orbs unnumber'd move in mystic Dance.
Then smil'd Omnipotence his Works to see;
He smil'd in Light, and bid that Lamp still be:
Now blaz'd the Sun in his bright Orb above;
The Morning Stars in joyful Measures move;
The list'ning Angels in deep Wonder gaze;
Then join'd the Hymn, and their first Work was Praise.
In all this lower Word, but most in Man;
A Creature fram'd at such a vast Expence,
Enrich'd with Reason, and adorn'd with Sense;
Why would its Maker's Hand so close confine
To clogging Clay this Particle Divine;
Which outward Casualties can still annoy,
And whose own Motion must itself destroy;
When full-blown Faculties his Genius crown,
Lo! Death assails and lops the Pigmy down:
Why all this Labour on a Thing that must,
As soon as finish'd, fall again to Dust?
Thus reasons Man, whose Reasonings oft are vain,
And sees so little of th'eternal Chain,
From whence contingent Destinies impend,
A Scale of Causes that in God must end,
The mystic Mazes of his own Decree,
In Wonders wrapt which he alone can see.
Yet Man, vile Reptile! with Presumption pries
Where trembling Angels veil their wond'ring Eyes.
Imperious Emmet! know thy native Dust,
Thyself mistaken, and thy Maker just:
Who gives thee Rudiments of Knowledge here,
Then lifts thee upwards to a nobler Sphere;
Above the Stars to take thy high Degree,
And brighten on to all Eternity:
Where Truth, still shining in unclouded Day,
Shall all her Radiance on thy Soul display.
Forbear, vain Man! to murmur at thy Fate,
Nor mourn thy Passage to a better State.
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Break from her Bands, and seek a happier Lot:
To God alone let thy Affections tend,
Thy proper Center, and thy final End,
Who out of nothing made the World and thee,
His Wisdom form'd, and Goodness bid it be.
Eternal Wisdom, whilst yet all was Night,
Call'd forth from Chaos his first Creature, Light,
And spread its Splendor o'er the wide Expanse,
Where Orbs unnumber'd move in mystic Dance.
Then smil'd Omnipotence his Works to see;
He smil'd in Light, and bid that Lamp still be:
Now blaz'd the Sun in his bright Orb above;
The Morning Stars in joyful Measures move;
The list'ning Angels in deep Wonder gaze;
Then join'd the Hymn, and their first Work was Praise.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |