Classic Poem

W R etched superstitious Fool,
Here set up thy final Rest:
Learn to act by Reason's Rule;
Humane Prescience is a Jest.

II.

What is past, it may describe;
What is present, also tell:
But, if e'er so high we Bribe,
What's to come, it can't reveal.

III.

Some Things right, and others wrong,
'Tis at utmost but a Guess;
And our Fancy being strong
Heightens up the Images.

IV.

All our Hopes, and all our Fears,
Aggravated and increast;
Cruel! and intestine Wars!
Multiply'd within our Breast.

V.

Doubts of Friend's! and Trust in Foes!
Are the least it does procure:
Thousand! Thousand! needless Woes,
Must the curious Wretch endure.

VI.

Foolish! and deceitful Art!
To what Purpose dost thou tend?
Can'st thou ease one anxious Smart?
Or retrieve one faithless Friend?

VII.

If thou canst not alter Fate?
But what must! will certain be;
I'll no more anticipate:
Future Joy, or Misery.

VIII.

Hence! fallacious Science! hence,
Tempt no more with what's to come!
I'm resign'd to Providence,
And Patience be my Doom.