What vary'd Being peoples every star,

May tell why Heaven has made us as we are.
But of this frame the bearings and the ties,
The strong connections, nice dependencies,
Gradations juft, has thy pervading foul

Look'd through? or can a part contain the whole?
Is the great chain, that draws all to agree,

And drawn fupports, upheld by God, or thee?

30

II. Prefumptuous Man! the reason wouldst thou find,
Why form'd fo weak, fo little, and fo blind?
First, if thou canft, the harder reafon guess,

Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no lefs?
Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are made

Taller or ftronger than the weeds they shade;
Or afk of yonder argent fields above,
Why Jove's Satellites are lefs than Jove?

40

Of Syftems poffible, if 'tis confeft,
That Wisdom infinite must form the best,
Where all muft full or not coherent be,

And all that rifes, rife in due degree;

Then, in the scale of reafoning life, 'tis plain,
There must be, fomewhere, fuch a rank as Man :
And all the question (wrangle e'er fo long)
Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong?
Respecting Man, whatever wrong we call

May, must be right, as relative to all.

45

50

In human works, though labour'd on with pain,
A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain ;
In God's, one fingle can its end produce;
Yet ferves to fecond too fome other ufe.

55

So

So Man, who here seems 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.

31

60

When the proud steed shall know why man restrains
His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains;
When the dull Ox, why now he breaks the clod,
Is now a victim, and now Ægypt's God:
Then fhall Man's pride and dulness comprehend
His actions, paffions', being's, use and end;
Why doing, fuffering, check'd, impell'd; and why
This hour a flave, the next a deity.

Then say not Man's imperfect, Heaven in fault;
Say rather, Man 's as perfect as he ought:
His knowledge measur'd to his state and place;
His time a moment, and a point his space.
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 so,

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 sphere,

What matter, foon or late, or here, or there?

The bleft to-day is as completely so,

As who began ten thousand years ago.

From brutes what men, from men what fpirits know: Or who could fuffer Being here below;

80

The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy Reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the laft, he crops the flowery food,

And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly given,

85

That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heaven:
Who fees with equal eye, as God of all,

A hero perish, or a fparrow fall,

Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd,

And now a bubble burst, and now a world.

Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions foar;

90

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 blest :
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;

95

100

His

VARIATIONS.

After ver. 88. in the MS.

No great, no little; 'tis as much decreed
That Virgil's Gnat should die as Cæfar bleed.

Ver. 93. in the first Folio and Quarto,

What blifs above he gives not thee to know,
But gives that Hope to be thy blifs below.

His foul proud Science never taught to stray
Far as the folar walk, or milky way;

Yet fimple Nature to his hope has given,
Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heaven;
Some fafer world in depth of woods embrac'd,
Some happier island in the watery waste,

Where flaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold.
To Be, contents his natural defire,

He asks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,

His faithful dog fhall bear him

company.

IV. Go, wifer thou! and in thy scale of fenfe,
Weigh thy Opinion against Providence ;
Call imperfection what thou fancy'ft fuch,
Say, here he gives too little, there too much :
Destroy all creatures for thy fport or gust,
Yet cry, If Man's unhappy, God's unjust;
If Man alone ingrofs not Heaven's high care,
Alone made perfect here, immortal there:
Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,
Re-judge his juftice, be the God of God.
In Pride, in reasoning Pride, our error lies;
All quit their fphere, and rush into the skies.

VARIATIONS.

After ver. 108. in the first Edition;

But does he fay the Maker is not good,
Till he 's exalted to what ftate he wou'd;
Himself alone high Heaven's peculiar care,
Alone made happy when he will, and whère N
VOL. II.

D

Pride

Pride still is aiming at the bleft abodes,

Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods. L
Afpiring to be Gods, if Angels fell,

Afpiring to be Angels, Men rebel: 1
And who but wishes to invert the laws
Of Order, fins against th' Eternal Cause.

125

130

V. Afk for what end the heavenly bodies fhine, Earth for whofe ufe? Pride anfwers, "Tis for mine: "For me kind Nature wakes her genial power;

Suckles each herb, and fpreads 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."

135

-140

But errs not Nature from this gracious end, From burning funs when livid deaths defcend, When earthquakes fwallow, or when tempefts fweep Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep? "No ('tis reply'd) the first Almighty Cause "Acts not by partial, but by general laws; ́

145

"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?
As much that end a conftant courfe requires

150

Of showers and fun-fhine, as of Man's defires;

As much eternal springs and cloudless skies,

As men for ever temperate, calm, and wife.