That frantic boast of vain conceit, untaugh The paltriest of its plans to execute! Hast thou the art to add, by taking thought, One cubit to thy stature? and hast thou, Or such as thou, Nature's whole fabric wrought? Not thine such vaunt--not thine to disavow The lustre of thy genuine origin. To the Most Highest, as thine author, bow With rapture of exulting faith, wherein Devotion's cravings their desire achieve, The bright ideal that they imaged, win. Rejoice that thus 'tis given thee to believe,-- To recognise transcending majesty, Worthy all praise--all honour to receive: Rejoice in that high presence, gratefully Offering the vows that thy full heart dilate: Rejoice that thence there floweth light, whereby Thy emulative quest to elevate Thitherward, where unblemished holiness Irradiates sovereignty, benign as great. 'But here thou pausest, scrupling to confess A providence of aspect all benign. Fear not that sceptic scruple to express. Of truth, Almighty Goodness could assign Good only to the work of His own hand, Warmed into life by His own breath divine: And, where unchecked Beneficence had planned A home for creatures of a fragile race, Evoked from nothingness at His command, Nor care, nor want, nor anguish should have place, Nor fraud betray, nor violence oppress, Nor hate inflame, nor wallowing lust debase, Nor aught be found, save what conspired to bless The sentient clay, wrought surely for that end,-- For wherefore wrought, if not for happiness? 'Not, as some teach, for mastery to contend With fate,--in doubtful conflict to engage,-- Struggling, in pain and peril, to ascend Slowly, through this probationary stage, Sore let, but tried and chastened, and thereby Earning on earth a heavenly heritage. Was there then need that prescience should try, By ordeal pitiless, assured event, Disclosed beforehand to prophetic eye? Need was there, by austere experiment, To test the frailty and the fall foreknown Of man, beneath o'erwhelming burthen bent? In this was tutelar prevision shown? Hardly may he, in such belief confide, Who sees his fellow myriads left to groan In barren penance, without light or guide, E'en from their birth by fostering vice controlled, Doomed as they cross life's threshold--doomed untried.