Can never be a lover who to God will seek.
Were fancy’s lover true, and free from crafty guile,
His fancy’s tropes had led him to the truth erewhile.
That dictum would require a commentary, full,
But fear withholds me. Prejudice will have its pull!520
Old prejudice, quite purblind to the truth, I see,
A hundred phantoms conjures up to frighten me.
Not every man has heard aright the still small voice;
Not every bird’s a fig-pecker, that sweets rejoice;
How then a bird that’s dead,—turned putrid long ago;—