Irksome as twice-sung tune that tires
the dulled ear of drowsy wight.

With God's foreknowledge man's free will!
what monster-growth of human brain,
What powers of light shall ever pierce
this puzzle dense with words inane?

Vainly the heart on Providence calls,
such aid to seek were hardly wise
For man must own the pitiless Law
that sways the globe and sevenfold skies.

"Be ye Good Boys, go seek for Heav'en,
come pay the priest that holds the key;"
So spake, and speaks, and aye shall speak
the last to enter Heaven,--he.

Are these the words for men to hear?
yet such the Church's general tongue,
The horseleech-cry so strong so high
her heav'enward Psalms and Hymns among.

What? Faith a merit and a claim,
when with the brain 'tis born and bred?
Go, fool, thy foolish way and dip
in holy water buried dead!

Yet follow not th' unwisdom-path,
cleave not to this and that disclaim;