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On PROCRASTINATION.

[YOUNG.]

E wife to-day; 'tis madnefs to defer;
Next day the fatal precedent will plead ;
Thus on, till wifdom is pufh'd out of life.
Procrastination is the thief of time;
Year after year it steals, till all are fled,.
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vaft concerns of an eternal scene.

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears
The palm, "That all men are about to live,"
For ever on the brink of being born.

All pay themselves the compliment to think
They, one day, fhall not drivel; and their pride
On this reverfion takes up ready praise;
At least, their own; their future felves applauds
How excellent that life they ne'er will lead !
Time lodg'd in their own hands is Folly's vails;
That lodg'd in Fate's, to Wifdom they confign;
The thing they can't but purpose, they poftpone
'Tis not in Folly, not to fcorn a fool;

And scarce in human wisdom to do more.
All Promife is poor dilatory man,

And that thro' ev'ry ftage. When young,. indeed,
In full content we, fometimes, nobly reft,
Un-anxious for ourfelves; and only with
As duteous fons, our fathers were more wife.
At thirty man fufpects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty chides his infamous delay,
Pufhes his prudent purpofe to refolve;
In all the magnanimity of thought

Refolves, and re-refolves; then dies the fame.

And why? Because he thinks himself immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themselves; Themfelves, when fome alarming fhock of fate Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the fudden dread But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, Soon clofe; where past the fhaft, no trace is found..

On

1

On the BEING of a GOD.

[YOUNG.]

ETIRE; The world fhut out;-Thy thoughts call home;

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Imagination's airy wing reprefs.;

Lock up thy fenfes;-Let no paffion ftir;-
Wake all to Reafon ;-Let her reign alone;-
Then, in thy Soul's deep filence, and the depth
Of Nature's filence, midnight, thus inquire,
As I have done.

What am I? and from whence? I nothing know, But that I am; and, fince I am, conclude Something eternal: had there e'er been nought, Nought ftill had been: Eternal there muft be.But what eternal ?-Why not human race? And ADAM's ancestors without an end?That's hard to be conceiv'd; fince ev'ry link Of that long-chain'd fucceffion is fo frail Can ev'ry part depend, and not the whole ? Yet grant it true; new difficulties rife;. I'm ftill quite out at fea; nor fee the fhore.. Whence earth, and thefe bright orbs?-Eternal too ?Grant matter was eternal; ftill thefe orbs Would want some other father; -Much defign.

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Is feen in all their motions, all their makes;

Defign implies intelligence, and;art:

That can't be from themselves — or man; that art
Man fcarce can comprehend, could man beftow?:
And nothing greater, yet allow'd than man.
Who, motion, foreign to the fmallest grain,
Shot thro' vaft maffes of enormous weight?
Who bid brute matter's reftive lump aflume
Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly?
Has matter innate motion? Then each atom,.
Afferting its indifputable right

To dance,, would form an univerfe of duft:

Has matter none? Then whence thefe glorious forms,.
And boundless flights, from fhapelefs, and repos'd?
Has matter more than motion? Has it thought,
Judgment, and genius? Is it deeply learn'd
In Mathematics? Has it fram'd fuch laws,
Which, but to guefs, a NEWTON made immortal?

If

If art, to form; and counfel, to conduct;
And that with greater far, than human skill,
Refides not in each block;-a GODHEAD reigns..
And, if a GOD. there is, that GOD how great!-

The IGNORANCE of MAN, with regard to the
GENERAL LAWS of the UNIVERSE, a Reafon
why he fhould be contented with his PRESENT
STATE. [POPE]

AY firft, of God above, or man below,

SA

we

What can we reafon, but from what we know! Of man, what fee we but his ftation here,

From which to reafon, or to which refer?

Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known,
'Tis ours to trace him only in our own.
He, who thro' vaft immenfity can pierce,
See worlds on worlds compofe one univerfe,.
Obferve how fyftem into fyftem runs,
What other planets circle other funs,
What vary'd being peoples ev'ry star,
May tell why heav'n has made us as we are..
But of this frame the bearings and the ties,
The ftrong connections, nice dependencies,
Gradations juft, has thy pervading foul
Look'd thro'? or can a part contain the whole ?*
Is the great chain, that draws all to agree,
And drawn fupports, upheld by God, or thee?
Prefumptuous man! the reafon would'ft thou find,
Why form'd fo weak, fo little, and fo blind?
Firft, if thou canft, the harder reafon guefs,
Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no lefs?.
Afk of thy mother earth, why oaks are made
Taller and stronger than the weeds they fhade??
Or afk of yonder argent fields above,
Why Jove's fatellites are lefs than Jove?
Of fyftems poffible, if 'tis confeft
That wifdom infinite muft form the beft.
Where all muft full or not coherent be,
And all that rifes, rife in due degree;
Then, in the fcale of reas'ning life, 'tis plain,
There must be fomewhere, fuch a rank as man:
And all the queftion, (wrangle e'er fo long)"
Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong?

Refpecting

Refpecting man, whatever wrong we call,
May, must be right, as relative to all.

In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain,
A thousand movements fcarce once purpose gain ;
In God's, one fingle can its end produce;
Yet ferves to fecond too fome other ufe.
So man, who here feems principal alone,
Perhaps acts fecond to fome fphere unknown,
Touches fome wheel, or verges to fome goal;
"Tis but a part we fee, and not a whole.

When the proud fteed fhall know why man restrains
His fiery courfe, or drives him o'er the plains;
When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod,
Is now a victim, and now Egypt's god:
Then fhall man's pride and dulnefs comprehend
His actions, paffions', being's, ufe and end;
Why doing, fuff'ring, check'd, impell'd; and why
This hour a flave, the next a deity.

Then fay not man's imperfect, heav'n in fault;
Say rather, man's as perfect as he ought:
His knowledge meafur'd to his ftate and place;
His time a moment, and a point his fpace.
If to be perfect in a certain fphere,

What matter, foon or late, or here, or there?
The bleft to-day is as completely fo,

As who began a thousand years ago.

Our HAPPINESS partly owing to our IGNORANCE of FUTURE EVENTS, partly to our HOPE of a FUTURE STATE. [POPE.]

EAV'N from all creatures hides the book of fate,

Hall but the page prefcrib'd, their prefent ftate:

From brutes what men, from men what fpirits know:
Or who could fuffer being here below?

The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy reafon, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the laft, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand juft rais'd to fhed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,.
That each may fill the circle mark'd by heav'n:
Who fees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a fparrow fall,

Atoms

Atoms or fyftems into ruin hurl'd,

And now a bubble burft, and now a world.

Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions foar;
Wait the great teacher death; and God adore.
What future blifs, he gives not thee to know,
But gives that hope to be thy bleffing now.
Hope fprings eternal in the human breast:
Man never Is, but always To be bleft:
The foul, uneafy, and confin'd from home,
Refts and expatiates in a life to come.

Lo, the poor Indian! whofe untutor'd mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;
His foul, proud fcience never taught to ftray
Far as the folar walk, or milky way;
Yet fimple nature to his hope has giv❜n,
Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heav'n;
Some fafer world in depth of woods embrac'd,
Some happier island in the wat❜ry waste,
Where flaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Chriftians thirst for gold.
To be, contents his natural defire,

He afks no angel's wing, no feraph's fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,
His faithful dog fhall bear him company.

The UNREASONABLENESS of our COMPLAINTS against PROVIDENCE.

[POPE.]

THAT would this Man? Now upward will he foar,
And little lefs than Angel, would be more;

Now looking downwards, juft as griev'd appears,
To want the ftrength of bulls, the fur of bears.
Made for his ufe all creatures if he call,
Say what their ufe, had he the pow'rs of all;
Nature to thefe, without profufion, kind,
The proper organs, proper pow'rs affign'd;
Each feeming want compenfated of course,
Here with degrees of fwiftnefs, there of force;
All in exact proportion to the state;
Nothing to add, and nothing to abate.
Each beaft, each infect, happy in its own:
Is Heav'n unkind to Man, and Man alone?
Shall he alone, whom rational we call,

Be pleas'd with nothing, if not bleft with all?

The

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