Shall all things else be in mystery, and God alone be understood? Shall finite fathom infinity, though it sound not the shallows of creation? Shall a man comprehend his Maker, being yet a riddle to himself? Or time teach the Lesson that eternity cannot master? If God be nothing more than one, a child can compass the thought; But seraphs fail to unravel the wondrous unity of three. One verily He is, for there can be but one who is all mighty; Yet the oracles of nature and religion proclaim Him three in one. And where were the value to thy soul, O miserable denizen of earth, Of the idle pageant of the cross, where hung no sacrifice for thee? Where the worth to thine impotent heart, of that stirred Bethesda, All numbed and palsied as it is, by the scorpion stings of sin? No, thy trinity of nature, enchained by treble death, Helplessly craveth of its God, Himself for three salvations: The soul to be reconciled in love, the mind to be glorified in light, While this poor dying body leapeth into life. And if indeed for us all the costly ransom hath been paid, Bethink thee, could less than Deity have owned so vast a treasure? Could a man contend with God, and stand against the bosses of His buckler, Rendering the balance for guilt, atonement to the uttermost? Thou art subtle to thine own thinking, but wisdom judgeth thee a fool, Resolving thou wilt not bow the knee to a Being thou canst not comprehend: The mind that could compass perfection were itself perfection's equal; And reason refuseth its homage to a God who can be fully understood. Thou that despiseth mystery, yet canst expound nothing, Wherefore rejectest thou the fact that solveth the enigma of all things? Wherefore veilest thou thine eyes, lest the light of revelation sun them, And puttest aside the key that would open the casket of truth? The mind and the nature of God are shadowed in all His works, And none could have guessed of His essence, had He not uttered it Himself. Therefore, thou child of folly, that scornest the record of His wisdom, Learn from the consistencies of nature the needful miracle of Godhead: Yea, let the heathen be thy teacher, who adoreth many gods, For there is no wide-spread error that hath not truth for its beginning. Be content; thine eye cannot see all the sides of a cube at one view, Nor thy mind in the self-same moment follow two ideas: There are now many marvels in thy creed, believing what thou seest, Then let not the conceit of intellect hinder thee from worshipping mystery. [Illustration: Of Thinking.] OF THINKING.