(seq. 63)

57

Which giddy chance could ne'er proportion out,

And unconfusd preserve the harmony

Entire, & keep the justest order up ~

Yon starry heav'n all wondrous to behold,

Would thou but enter on so bold a thot,

And reason from the big harmonious throng

Of worlds round worlds revolving, unconfusd,

Would cramp thy scepticism & confound,

Thy sophistry, that draws conclusions e'er

The premises are crouded into being ~

Rouse all thy art to prove the hated truth

Thou couldst maintain, & make it fair,

To make the infidel the happy soul,

That revels on substantial bliss, that dies

E'en while fruition makes the fantom thine ~

The gilded scenes, that now engross thy soul,

And wraps the up in thy delicious faith,

To paint fallacious joys & insincere,

That draws thy soul with soft inchintment oft