Look abroad,
And tell me, shall we to blind Chance ascribe
A scene so wonderful, so fair and good?
Shall we no further search than sense will lead,
To find the glorious Cause which so delights
The eye and ear, and scatters everywhere
Ambrosial perfumes? Is there not a hand
Which operates unseen, and regulates
The vast machine we tread on? Yes, there is;
Who first created the great world, a work
Of deep construction, complicately wrought,
Wheel within wheel; though all in vain we strive
To trace remote effects through the thick maze
Of movements intricate, confused, and strange,
Up to the great Artificer who made
And guides the whole. What if we see him not?
No more can we behold the busy soul
Which animates ourselves. Man to himself
Is all a miracle. I cannot see
The latent cause, yet such I know there is,
Which gives the body motion, nor can tell
By what strange impulse the so ready limb
Performs the purposes of will. How then
Shalt thou and I, who cannot span ourselves
In this our narrow vessel, comprehend
The being of a God?
(James Hurdis)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, God Poems, World Poems, Work & Career Poems, Body Poems, Purposes Poems, Miracles PoemsBased on Keywords: artificer, ascribe, operates, regulates