VIII.
Tho’ Mysteries are barr’d from Laick Eyes,
And the Divine alone, with Warrant, pries
Into thy Bosom, where the Truth in private lies.
IX.
Yet this of thee the Wise may freely say,
Thou from the Virtuous nothing tak’st away,
And to be part with thee the Wicked wisely pray.
X.
Great Negative, how vainly wou’d the Wise
Enquire, define, distinguish, teach, devise?
Didst thou not stand to point their dull Philosophies.
XI.
Is, or is not, the two great Ends of Fate,
And, true or false, the Subject of Debate,
That perfect, or destroy, the vast Designs of Fate.
XII.
When they have rack’d the Politician’s Breast,
Within thy Bosom most securely rest,
And, when reduc’d to thee, are least unsafe and best.