Methinks this World is oddly made, <br /> And ev'ry thing's amiss, <br />A dull presuming Atheist said, <br />As stretch'd he lay beneath a Shade; <br /> And instanced in this: <br /> <br />Behold, quoth he, that mighty thing, <br /> A Pumpkin, large and round, <br />Is held but by a little String, <br />Which upwards cannot make it spring, <br /> Or bear it from the Ground. <br /> <br />Whilst on this Oak, a Fruit so small, <br /> So disproportion'd, grows; <br />That, who with Sence surveys this All, <br />This universal Casual Ball, <br /> Its ill Contrivance knows. <br /> <br />My better Judgment wou'd have hung <br /> That Weight upon a Tree, <br />And left this Mast, thus slightly strung, <br />'Mongst things which on the Surface sprung, <br /> And small and feeble be. <br /> <br />No more the Caviller cou'd say, <br /> Nor farther Faults descry; <br />For, as he upwards gazing lay, <br />An Acorn, loosen'd from the Stay, <br /> Fell down upon his Eye. <br /> <br />Th' offended Part with Tears ran o'er, <br /> As punish'd for the Sin: <br />Fool! had that Bough a Pumpkin bore, <br />Thy Whimseys must have work'd no more, <br /> Nor Scull had kept them in.<br /><br />Anne Kingsmill Finch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-atheist-and-the-acorn/
