The Library by George Crabbe
page 11 of 25 (44%)
page 11 of 25 (44%)
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For Fear to guide, and visions to control:
But now, when Reason has assumed her throne, She, in her turn, demands to reign alone; Rejecting all that lies beyond her view, And, being judge, will be a witness too: Insulted Faith then leaves the doubtful mind, To seek for truth, without a power to find: Ah! when will both in friendly beams unite, And pour on erring man resistless light? Next to the seats, well stored with works divine, An ample space, PHILOSOPHY! is thine; Our reason's guide, by whose assisting light We trace the moral bounds of wrong and right; Our guide through nature, from the sterile clay, To the bright orbs of yon celestial way! 'Tis thine, the great, the golden chain to trace, Which runs through all, connecting race with race; Save where those puzzling, stubborn links remain, Which thy inferior light pursues in vain:- How vice and virtue in the soul contend; How widely differ, yet how nearly blend; What various passions war on either part, And now confirm, now melt the yielding heart: How Fancy loves around the world to stray, While Judgment slowly picks his sober way; The stores of memory, and the flights sublime Of genius, bound by neither space nor time; - All these divine Philosophy explores, Till, lost in awe, she wonders and adores. From these, descending to the earth, she turns, |
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