[2] "Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutor'd mind Sees God in Clouds, and hears him in the wind; Whose Soul proud science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky way, Yet simple nature to his hope has given Behind the cloud-top't hill an humbler Heaven; Some safer world, in depth of woods embrac'd, Some happier island, in a watry waste: Where slaves once more their native land behold, Nor friends torment, nor Christians thirst for Gold; To live, contents his natural desire, He asks no Seraph's wing, no Angel's fire, But thinks admitted to that equal Sky, His faithful Dog, shall bear him company: Go, wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense Weigh thy opinion against Providence; Call imperfection what thou fancy'st such, Say here he gives too little, here too much, Destroy all creatures for thy sport and gust, Yet cry, if man's unhappy, God's unjust; If man alone engross not Heaven's high care, Alone made perfect here, immortal there: Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod, Rejudge his Justice, and be God of God." Pope's Essay on Man.-- End of PART the FIRST. PART the SECOND. In various forms the madd'ning Spirit moves, This drinks and fights, another drinks and loves. A bastard Zeal of different kinds it shows, And now with rage, and now Religion glows; The frantic Soul bright reason's path defies, Now creeps on Earth, now triumphs in the Skies; Swims in the seas of error and explores, Through midnight mists, the fluctuating Shores; From wave to wave in rocky Channel glides, And sinks in woe, or on presumption slides; 10 In Pride exalted, or by Shame deprest, An Angel-Devil, or a human-Beast. Without a pilot who attempts to steer, Has small discretion or has little care; That pilot Reason, in the erring Soul, Is lost, is blinded in the steaming Bowl, Charm'd by its power, we cast our guide away, And at the mercy of conjecture lay; Discretion dies with reason, Revel wakes! And o'er the head his fiery banners shakes. 20 With him come frenzy, folly and excess, Blink-ey'd conceit and shallow emptiness; At Folly's beck a train of Vices glide, Murder in madness cloak'd, in choler, Pride; Above, Impiety, with curses bound, Lours at the skies, and whirls Damnation round.