So Man, who here feems principal alone, Perhaps acts fecond to some sphere unknown, Touches fome wheel, or verges to fome goal; 'Tis but a part we fee, and not a whole. 60 When the proud steed shall know why man restrains Then say not Man's imperfect, Heaven in fault; If to be perfect in a certain sphere, 65 70 What matter, foon or late, or here, or there? The bleft to-day is as completely fo, 75 As who began a thousand years ago. III. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prefcrib'd, their present state: VARIATIONS. From In the former Editions, ver. 64. Now wears a garland an Ægyptian God. After ver. 68. the following lines in the first Edition. 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 ten thousand years ago. From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could fuffer Being here below; 80 The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood. 85 That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heaven: A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, Atoms or fyftems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world. 90 Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions foar; Wait the great teacher Death; and God adore. Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutor'd mind 95 100 His VARIATIONS. After ver. 88. in the MS. No great, no little; 'tis as much decreed What blifs above he gives not thee to know, His foul proud Science never taught to stray Yet fimple Nature to his hope has given, Where slaves once more their native land behold, He afks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire; IV. Go, wifer thou! and in thy fcale of fenfe, VARIATIONS. After ver. 108. in the first Edition; But does he say the Maker is not good, D 105 110 115 120 Pride Pride ftill is aiming at the bleft abodes, Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods. Of Order, fins against th' Eternal Caufe. 125 130 135 V. Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine, Earth for whofe ufe? Pride anfwers, ""Tis for mine: "For me kind Nature wakes her genial power; "Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flower; "Annual for me, the grape, the rose, renew "The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew; “For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings; "For me, health gushes from a thousand springs; "Seas roll to waft me, funs to light me rife; "My foot-stool earth, my canopy the skies.” 140 But errs not Nature from this gracious end, From burning funs when livid deaths defcend, When earthquakes fwallow, or when tempests sweep Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep ? "No ('tis reply'd) the firft Almighty Caufe "Acts not by partial, but by general laws; "Th' exceptions few; fome change fince all began: "And what created perfect?"-Why then Man? If the great end be human Happiness, Then Nature deviates; and can Man do lefs? 145 150 If plagues or earthquakes break not Heaven's defign, Why then a Borgia, or a Catiline? Who knows, but he whose hand the lightning forms, Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the ftorms; Pours fierce Ambition in a Cæfar's mind, Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind? 160 From pride, from pride, our very reafoning fprings; Account for moral as for natural things: Why charge we Heaven in those, in these acquit? In both, to reason right, is to submit. Better for us, perhaps, it might appear, 165 170 VI. What would this Man? Now upward will he foar, And, little less than Angel, would be more; Now looking downwards, juft as griev'd appears 175 Nothing to add, and nothing to abate. 180 Each |