Or reason lies, and Heaven design’d it wrong:
Absolve we this? What, then, is blasphemy?
Fond as we are, and justly fond, of faith,
Reason, we grant, demands our first regard;
The mother honour’d, as the daughter dear. 750
Reason the root, fair faith is but the flower;
The fading flower shall die; but reason lives
Immortal, as her Father in the skies.
When faith is virtue, reason makes it so.
Wrong not the Christian; think not reason yours: