Blush, Atheists, Blush

Blush

athe­ists

blush

your ai­ry schemes

Your chance

and at­oms

are but dreams:

Science in vain you proud­ly boast

In er­ror’s end­less maz­es lost.

Nature sur­vey

the migh­ty whole

From north to south­ern dist­ant pole:

Heav’n

earth and seas

and worlds of light

For ag­es hid from hu­man sight.

Say then

could chance this fab­ric rear

So great

so good

so won­drous fair?

Could chance the heav’n­ly bo­dies move

And in strict or­der bid them rove?

Does chance the va­ri­ous sea­sons rule

The bloom­ing spring

the au­tumn cool?

Bid sum­mer’s heat en­rich the year

And win­ter pinch with frosts sev­ere?

Sways chance the em­pire of the main?

Can chance its proud­est waves re­strain?

Command the sense­less tides to flow?

Of teach the ebb its hour to know?

What is all na­ture but de­sign?

Her works

but skill and pow­er div­ine?

The God we see in ev­ery form

From the arch­an­gel to the worm.

The won­drous scale of be­ings view

Their nice gra­da­tions close pur­sue;

Deny then

skep­tic

if you can

A pro­per place as­signed for man.

Man

know thy­self

thy rank well know

And pay the migh­ty debt you owe;

The God ad­ore

who did in­spire

Your frame with an im­mor­tal fire.

Man

view thy soul

nor let it be

A slave when God would have it free;

Nor be it said that brutes ob­ey

Whilst man re­jects his mak­er’s sway.