REFLECTIONS ON THE BEING OF A GOD. YOUNG. RETIRE;-the world shut out-thy thoughts call home;- Lock up thy senses; let no passions stir; Then in my soul's deep silence, and the depth ; I'm still quite out at sea, nor see the shore. To dance, would form an universe of dust: Has matter none? Then whence these glorious forms, In mathematics? has it fram'd such laws, If art to form, and counsel to conduct, And that which greater far than human skill, SEARCH AFTER GOD. HEYWOOD. I SOUGHT Thee round about, O thou my God! In thine abode. GOD. I said unto the Earth, "Speake, art thou HE? "I am not." I inquired of creatures all, In generall, Contain'd therein;-they with one voice proclaim, I ask't the seas, and all the deeps below, I ask't the reptiles, and whatever is Even from the shrimpe to the leviathan, Inquiry ran; But in those deserts which no line can sound, I ask't the aire, if that were He? but, lo! I from the towering eagle to the wren, If any feather'd fowle 'mongst them were such? Offended with my question, in full quire, Answer'd," to finde thy God thou must look higher." I ask't the heavens, sun, moon, and stars, but they The God thou seek'st."-I ask't what eye or eare What in the world I might descry or know Above, below: With an unanimous voice, all these things said, "We are not God, but we by him were made." I ask't the world's great universal masse, If that God was ? Which with a mighty and strong voice reply'd, As stupify'd, "I am not He, O man! for know, that I By him on high, Was fashion'd first of nothing, thus instated, And sway'd by Him, by whom I was created." A scrutiny within myself I, then, Even thus began: "O man, what art thou ?"-What more could I say, Than dust and clay? Fraile, mortal, fading, a mere puffe, a blast, That cannot last; Enthroned to-day, to-morrow in an urne; Form'd from that earth to which I must returne. The sands or the sun's rays-but, God! for O thou eternal One! whose presence bright flight; Thou only God! There is no God beside! Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone : more. mount Up to Thy mysteries; Reason's brightest spark, Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark : And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, Even like past moments in eternity. |