ARGENSOLA.
Father of all! unfold, since thou art just,
Why does thy providence all coldly see
Pale innocence enchain’d that would be free,
Whilst fraud ascends the judgment-seat august.
Who nerves the arm of power which dares oppose
An impious resistance to thy will?
Shall holy zeal and timid reverence still
Groan at the feet of thy obdurate foes?
See! impious hands victorious banners wave!
Hark! virtue moans scarce heard amid the shout
Of insolent triumph, and its boisterous mirth!
Thus I complaining spoke: A form shone out,
Gravely it spoke: “Is thy soul’s centre earth?
Oh blind one! not to see beyond the grave!”
ON THE PROOFS OF A DEITY.
ORIGINAL.
Talk not of proofs: God must be seen, and felt,
And known by meditation; not deduced
Like some hard problem, or a riddle spelt
By frequent guessing. Proofs on proofs adduced,
Speak they so plainly as the wailing cry
Of her first infant tells the mother’s heart
A mother’s love doth well from God on high?
Who hath not heard, in solitude apart,
God’s voice upon the wind? Who hath not seen
And felt Him present? seen Him earth pervade?
Each spring, their wither’d crowns renew with green
In aged trees? seen Him in depths of shade?
And glorious sunshine? and reveal’d in light
Of stars? and in the sea’s resistless might?