The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 10Dryden, John
Religion
The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 10
Dryden, John
English literature
And each man's heart his table is of stone,
Where he the god-writ character may view;
Were it as needful, faith had been so too.
Oh, that our greatest fault were humble doubt,
And that we were more just, though less devout!
What reverence should we pay thy sacred rhymes,
Who, in those factious too-believing times,
Has taught us to obey, and to distrust;
Yet, to ourselves, our king, and God, prove just.
Thou want'st not praise from an insuring friend;
The poor to thee on double interest lend.
So strong thy reasons, and so clear thy sense,
They bring, like day, their own bright evidence;
Yet, whilst mysterious truths to light you bring,}
And heavenly things in heavenly numbers sing, }
The joyful younger choir may clap the wing. }
TO
MR DRYDEN,
ON
RELIGIO LAICI.
'Tis nobly done, a layman's creed profest,
When all our faith of late hung on a priest;
His doubtful words, like oracles received,
And, when we could not understand, believed.
Triumphant faith now takes a nobler course,
Tis gentle, but resists intruding force.
Weak reason may pretend an awful sway,
And consistories charge her to obey;
(Strange nonsense, to confine the sacred Dove,}
And narrow rules prescribe how he shall love, }
And how upon the barren waters move.) }
But she rejects and scorns their proud pretence,
And, whilst those grovling things depend on sense,
She mounts on certain wings, and flies on high,}
And looks upon a dazzling mystery, }
With fixed, and steady, and an eagle's eye. }
Great king of verse, that dost instruct and please,
As Orpheus softened the rude savages;
And gently freest us from a double care,
The bold Socinian, and the papal chair:
Thy judgment is correct, thy fancy young,
Thy numbers, as thy generous faith, are strong:
Whilst through dark prejudice they force their way,
Our souls shake off the night, and view the day.
We live secure from mad enthusiasts' rage,
And fond tradition, now grown blind with age.
Let factious and ambitious souls repine, }
Thy reason's strong, and generous thy design;}
And always to do well is only thine. }
THO. CREECH.
RELIGIO LAICI.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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