ON THE OMNISCIENCE OF THE SUPREME BEING.

BY THE SAME.

ARISE, divine Urania, with new strains
 To hymn thy God, and thou, immortal Fame,
 Arise, and blow thy everlasting trump. 
All glory to th' Omniscient, and praise,
 And power, and domination in the height! 
And thou, cherubic Gratitude, whose voice
 To pious ears sounds silverly so sweet,
 Come with thy precious incense, bring thy gifts,
 And with thy choicest stores the altar crown. 
Thou too, my heart, whom He, and He alone
 Who all things knows, can know, with love replete,
 Regenerate, and pure, pour all thyself
 A living sacrifice before his throne:
 And may th' eternal, high mysterious tree,
 That in the center of the arcehd Heavens
 Bears the rich fruit of Knowledge, with some branch
 Stoop to my humble reach, and bless my toil! 

When in my mother's womb conceal'd I lay
 A senseless embryo, then my soul thou knew'st,
 Knew'st all her future workings, every thought,
 And every faint Idea yet unform'd. 
When up the imperceptible ascent
 Of growing years, led by thy hand, I rose,
 Perception's gradual light, that ever dawns
 Insensibly to day, thou didst vouchsafe,
 And taught me by that reason thou inspir'dst,
 That what of knowledge in my mind was low,
 Imperfect, incorrect — in Thee is wondrous,
 Uncircumscrib'd, unsearchably profound,
 And estimable solely by itself. 

What is that secret power, that guides the brutes,
 Which Ignorance calls instinct? 'Tis from Thee,
 It is the operation of thine hands
 Immediate, instantaneous; 'tis thy wisdom,
 That glorious shines transparent thro' thy works. 
Who taught the Pye, or who forewarn'd the Jay
 To shun the deadly nightshade? tho' the cherry
 Boasts not a glossier hue, nor does the plumb
 Lure with more seeming sweets the amorous eye,
 Yet will not the sagacious birds, decoy'd
 By fair appearance, touch the noxious fruit. 
They know to touch is fatal, whence alarm'd
 Swift on the winnowing winds they work their way. 
Go to, proud reas'ner philosophic Man,
 Hast thou such prudence, thou such knowledge? — No.
 Full many a race has fell into the snare
 Of meretricious looks, of pleasing surface. 
And oft in desart isles the famish'd pilgrim
 By forms of fruit, and luscious taste beguil'd;
 Like his forefather Adam, eats and dies. 
For why? his wisdom on the leaden sect
 Of slow experience, dully tedious, creeps,
 And comes, like vengeance, after long delay. 

The venerable Sage, that nightly trims
 The learned lamp, t' investigate the powers
 Of plants medicinal, the earth, the air,
 And the dark regions of the fossil world,
 Grows old in following, what he ne'er shall find;
 Studious in vain! till haply, at the last
 He spies a mist, then shapes it into mountains,
 And baseless fabrics from conjecture builds:
 While the domestic animal, that guards
 At midnight hours his threshold, if oppress'd
 By sudden sickness, at his master's feet
 Begs not that aid his services might claim,
 But is his own physician, knows the case,
 And from th' emetic herbage works his cure. 
Hark, far, from afar the feather'd matron screams. 
And all her brood alarms, the docile crew
 Accept the signal one and all, expert
 In th' art of nature and unlearn'd deceit;
 Along the sod, in counterfeited death,
 Mute, motionless they lie; sull well appriz'd,
 That the rapacious adversary's near. 
But who inform'd her of th' approaching danger,
 Who taught the cautious mother, that the hawk
 Was hatch'd her foe, and liv'd by her destruction? 
Her own prophetic soul is active in her,
 And more than human providence her guard. 

When Philomela, e'er the cold domain
 Of crippled winter 'gins t' advance, prepares
 Her annual flight, and in some poplar shade
 Takes her melodious leave, who then's her pilot? 
Who points her passage thro' the pathless void
 To realms from us remote, to us unknown? 
Her science is the science of her God. 
Not the magnetic index to the North
 E'er ascertains her course, nor buoy, nor beacon:
 She, Heaven-taught voyager, that sails in air,
 Courts nor coy West nor East, but instant knows
 What Newton, or not sought, or sought in vain. 

Illustrious name, irrefragable proof
 Of man's vast genius, and the soaring soul! 
Yet what wert thou to him, who knew his works,
 Before creation form'd them, long before
 He measur'd in the hollow of his hand
 Th' exulting ocean, and the highest Heavens
 He comprehended with a span, and weigh'd
 The mighty mountains in his golden scales:
 Who shone supreme, who was himself the light,
 E'er yet Refraction learn'd her skill to paint,
 And bend athwart the clouds her beauteous bow. 

When Knowledge at her father's dread command
 Resign'd to Israel's king her golden key,
 O! to have join'd the frequent auditors
 In wonder and delight, that whilom heard
 Great Solomon descanting on the brutes. 
O! how sublimely glorious to apply
 To God's own honour, and good will to man,
 That wisdom he alone of men possess'd
 In plenitude so rich, and scope so rare. 
How did he rouse the pamper'd silken sons
 Of bloated ease, by placing to their view
 The sage industrious Ant, the wisest insect,
 And best oeconomist of all the field! 
Tho' she presumes not by the solar orb
 To measure times and seasons, nor consults
 Chaldean calculations, for a guide;
 Yet conscious that December's on the march,
 Pointing with icy hand to want and woe,
 She waits his dire approach, and undismay'd
 Receives him as a welcome guest, prepar'd
 Against the churlish winter's fiercest blow. 
For when, as yet the favourable Sun
 Gives to the genial earth th' enlivening ray,
 Not the poor suffering slave, that hourly toils
 To rive the groaning earth for ill-sought gold,
 Endures such trouble, such fatigue, as she;
 While all her subterraneous avenues. 
And siorm-proof cells with management most meet
 And unexampled housewifry she forms:
 Then to the field she hies, and on her back,
 Burden immense! she bears the cumbrous corn. 
Then many a weary step, and many a strain,
 And many a grievous groan subdued, at length
 Up the huge hill she hardly heaves it home:
 Nor rests she here her providence, but nips
 With subtle tooth the grain, lest from her garner
 In mischievous fertility it steal,
 And back to day-light vegetate its way. 
Go to the Ant, thou sluggard, learn to live,
 And by her wary ways reform thine own. 
But, if thy deaden'd sense, and listless thought
 More glaring evidence demand; behold,
 Where yon pellucid populous hive presents
 A yet uncopied model to the world! 
There Machiavel in the reflecting glass
 May read himself a fool. The Chemist there
 May with astonishment invidious view
 His toils outdone by each plebeian Bee,
 Who, at the royal mandate, on the wing
 From various herbs, and from discordant flowers,
 A perfect harmony of sweets compounds. 

Avaunt Conceit, Ambition take thy flight
 Back to the Prince of vanity and air! 
O! 'tis a thought of energy most piercing;
 Form'd to make pride grow humble; form'd to force
 Its weight on the reluctant mind, and give her
 A true but Irksome image of herself. 
Woful vicissitude! when Man, fall'n Man,
 Who first from Heaven, from gracious God himself
 Learn'd knowledge of the Brutes, must know, by Brutes
 Instructed and reproach'd, the scale of being;
 By slow degrees from lowly steps ascend,
 And trace Omniscience upwards to its spring! 
Yet murmur not, but praise — for tho' we stand
 Of many a Godlike privilege amere'd
 By Adam's dire transgression, tho' no more
 Is Paradise our home, but o'er the portal
 Hangs in terrific pomp the burning blade;
 Still with ten thousand beauties blooms the Earth
 With pleasures populous, and with riches crown'd. 
Still is there scope for wonder and for love
 Ev'n to their last exertion — showers of blessings
 Far more than human virtue can deserve,
 Or hope expect, or gratitude return. 
Then, O ye People, O ye Sons of Men,
 Whatever be the colour of your lives,
 Whatever portion of itself his Wisdom
 Shall deign t' allow, still patiently abide
 And praise him more and more; nor cease to chaunt
 ALL GLORY TO TH' OMNISCIENT AND PRAISE,
 AND POWER AND DOMINATION IN THE HEIGHT! 
And thou, cherubic Gratitude, whose voice
 To pious ears sounds silverly so sweet,
 Come with thy precious incense, bring thy gifts,
 And with thy choicest stores the altar crown.