’Tis easy! it invites thee; it descends
From heaven to woo, and waft thee whence it came:
Read and revere the sacred page; a page 1360
Where triumphs immortality; a page
Which not the whole creation could produce;
Which not the conflagration shall destroy;
’Tis printed in the mind of gods for ever,
In nature’s ruins not one letter lost.
In proud disdain of what even gods adore,
Dost smile?—Poor wretch! thy guardian angel weeps.