ΓΝΩΘΙ ΣΕΑΥΤΟΝ KNOW YOUR SELF.
[]WHAT am I? how produc'd? and for what End?
Whence drew I Being? to what Period tend?
Am I th' abandon'd Orphan of blind Chance;
Dropt by wild Atoms, in diſorder'd Dance?
Or from an endleſs Chain of Cauſes wrought?
And of unthinking Subſtance, born with Thought?
By Motion which began without a Cauſe,
Supremely wiſe, without Deſign, or Laws.
[2] Am I but what I ſeem, mere Fleſh and Blood;
A branching Channel, with a mazy Flood?
The purple Stream that through my Veſſels glides,
Dull and unconſcious flows like common Tides:
The Pipes thro' which the circling Juices ſtray,
Are not that thinking I, no more than They:
This Frame, compacted with tranſcendent Skill,
Of moving Joints, obedient to my Will;
Nurs'd from the fruitful Glebe, like yonder Tree,
Waxes and waſtes; I call it Mine, not Me:
New Matter ſtill the mould'ring Maſs ſuſtains,
The Manſion chang'd, the Tenant ſtill remains;
And from the fleeting Stream repair'd by Food,
Diſtinct, as is the Swimmer from the Flood.
What am I then? Sure, of a nobler Birth,
Thy Parents Right, I own a Mother, Earth;
But claim ſuperior Lineage by my SIRE,
Who warm'd th' unthinking Clod with heav'nly Fire:
Eſſence divine, with lifeleſs Clay allay'd,
By double Nature, double Inſtinct ſway'd;
[3] With Look erect, I dart my longing Eye,
Seem wing'd to part, and gain my native Sky;
I ſtrive to mount, but ſtrive, alas! in vain,
Ty'd to this maſſy Globe with magick Chain.
Now with ſwift Thought I range from Pole to Pole
View Worlds around their flaming Centers roll:
What ſteddy Powers their endleſs Motions guide,
Thro' the ſame tractleſs Paths of boundleſs Void!
I trace the blazing Comet's fiery Trail,
And weigh the whirling Planets in a Scale:
Theſe Godlike Thoughts, while eager I purſue,
Some glitt'ring Trifle offer'd to my view,
A Gnat, an Inſect, of the meaneſt kind,
Eraſe the new-born Image from my Mind;
Some beaſtly Want, craving, importunate,
Vile as the grinning Maſtiffs at my Gate,
Calls off from heav'nly Truth this reas'ning Me,
And tells me I'm a Brute as much as He.
If on ſublimer Wings of Love and Praiſe,
My Soul above the ſtarry Vault I raiſe,
[4] Lur'd by ſome vain Conceit, or ſhameful Luſt,
I flag, I drop, and flutter in the Duſt.
The tow'ring Lark, thus, from her lofty Strain,
Stoops to an Emmet, or a Barley Grain.
By adverſe Guſts of jarring Inſtincts toſt,
I rove to one, now to the other Coaſt;
To Bliſs unknown my lofty Soul aſpires,
My Lot unequal to my vaſt Deſires.
As 'mongſt the Hinds a Child of Royal Birth
Finds his high Pedigree, by conſcious Worth;
So Man, amongſt his Fellow-Brutes expos'd,
Sees he's a King, but 'tis a King depos'd:
Pity him, Beaſts! you by no Law confin'd,
Are barr'd from devious Paths, by being blind;
Whilſt Man, through op'ning Views of various Ways
Confounded, by the Aid of Knowledge, ſtrays;
Too weak to chooſe, yet chooſing ſtill in haſte,
One Moment gives the Pleaſure and Diſtaſte;
Bilk'd by paſt Minutes, while the preſent cloy,
The flatt'ring future ſtill muſt give the Joy.
[5] Not happy, but amus'd upon the Road,
And (like you) thoughtleſs of his laſt Abode,
Whether next Sun his Being ſhall reſtrain,
To endleſs Nothing, Happineſs, or Pain.
Around me, lo, the thinking, thoughtleſs Crew
(Bewilder'd each) their diff'rent Paths purſue;
Of them I ask the Way; the firſt replies,
Thou art a God; and ſends me to the Skies.
Down on this Turf (the next) thou two-legg'd Beaſt,
There fix thy Lot, thy Bliſs, and endleſs Reſt:
Between thoſe wide Extremes the length is ſuch,
I find I know too little or too much.
" Almighty Pow'r, by whoſe moſt wiſe Command,
" Helpleſs, forlorn, uncertain here I ſtand;
" Take this faint Glimmering of thy ſelf away,
" Or break into my Soul with perfect Day!"
This ſaid, expanded lay the ſacred Text,
The Balm, the Light, the Guide of Souls perplext:
Thus the benighted Traveller that ſtrays
Through doubtful Paths, enjoys the Morning Rays;
[6] The nightly Miſt, and thick deſcending Dew,
Parting, unfold the Fields, and vaulted Blue.
" O Truth divine! enlightned by thy Ray,
" I grope and gueſs no more, but ſee my way;
" Thou cleardſt the Secret of my high Deſcent,
And told me what thoſe myſtick Tokens meant;
Marks of my Birth, which I had worn in vain,
Too hard for worldly Sages to explain;
Zeno's were vain, vain Epicurus' Schemes,
Their Syſtems falſe, deluſive were their Dreams;
Unskill'd my two-fold Nature to divide,
One nurs'd my Pleaſure, and one nurs'd my Pride:
Thoſe jarring Truths which Human Art beguile,
Thy ſacred Page thus bid me reconcile.
Offspring of God, no leſs thy Pedigree,
What thou once wer't, art now, and ſtill may be,
Thy God alone can tell, alone decree;
Faultleſs thou dropt from his unerring Skill,
With the bare Pow'r to ſin, ſince free of Will:
[7] Yet charge not with thy Guilt, his bounteous Love,
For who has Power to walk, has Power to rove;
Who acts by force impell'd, can nought deſerve;
And Wiſdom ſhort of infinite, may ſwerve.
Born on thy new-imp'd Wings, thou took'ſt thy Flight,
Left thy Creator, and the Realms of Light;
Diſdain'd his gentle Precept to fulfil;
And thought to grow a God by doing ill:
Though by foul Guilt thy heav'nly Form defac'd,
In Nature chang'd, from happy Manſions chac'd,
Thou ſtill retain'ſt ſome Sparks of heav'nly Fire,
Too faint to mount, yet reſtleſs to aſpire;
Angel enough to ſeek thy Bliſs again,
And Brute enough to make the Search in vain.
The Creatures now withdraw their kindly Uſe,
Some fly thee, ſome torment, and ſome ſeduce;
Repaſt ill ſuited to ſuch diff'rent Gueſts,
For what thy Senſe deſires, thy Soul diſtaſtes;
Thy Luſt, thy Curioſity, thy Pride,
Curb'd, or deferr'd, or balk'd, or gratify'd,
[8] Rage on, and make thee equally unbleſs'd
In what thou want'ſt, and what thou haſt poſſeſt;
In vain thou hop'ſt for Bliſs on this poor Clod,
Return, and ſeek thy Father, and thy God:
Yet think not to regain thy native Sky,
Born on the Wings of vain Philoſophy;
Myſterious Paſſage! hid from human Eyes;
Soaring you'll ſink, and ſinking you will riſe:
Let humble Thoughts thy wary Footſteps guide,
Regain by Meekneſs what you loſt by Pride.
FINIS.