Classic Poem

On beds of snow the moonbeam slept,
And chilly was the midnight gloom,
When by the damp grave Ellen wept —
Fond maid! it was her Lindor's tomb!

A warm tear gushed, the wintry air
Congealed it as it flowed away:
All night it lay an ice-drop there,
At morn it glittered in the ray.

An angel, wandering from her sphere,
Who saw this bright, this frozen gem,
To dew-eyed Pity brought the tear
And hung it on her diadem!

S O let our Virtuoso's pore,
And th' Idol of the Schools adore:
Let them this Earth's Foundations lay
By Atoms, or some other Way;
Assign to ev'ry Thing a Cause,
By Epicure's mechanick Laws:
The Bounds of Nature's Power shew,
With what she can, and cannot do.
Whence the Moon, and how the Sun,
From the Chaotick Mass begun:
How Planets by Refraction glance,
And in the Solar System Dance:
How Comet's Tail involv'd this Earth,
And gave the fatal Deluge Birth.
Whence the Central Fire came,
And how 'twill melt the World in Flame:
Out of its Ashes raise a new,
And teach what Millenarians do.
Thus, let these mighty Gnoslicks Jarr,
And raise and Hypothetick War;
In vain they strive! in vain they try!
T' explore the Cause with humane Eye:
A Power! uncircumscrib'd by Fate,
Or statick Laws did all create:
A Power, Just, Wise, Omnipotent, Immense,
Incomprehensible by finite Sense,
Produc'd th' Effects, the Causes understood,
He view'd the Structure, and pronounc'd it Good.
Here rest, my busy Thoughts! inquire no more,
The Work admire! the Architect adore!