Let no presuming impious railer tax <br />Creative wisdom, as if aught was form'd <br />In vain, or not for admirable ends. <br />Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce <br />His works unwise, of which the smallest part <br />Excceeds the narrow vision of her mind? <br />As if, upon a full-proportion'd dome, <br />On swelling columns heav'd, the pride of art! <br />A critic-fly, whose feeble ray scarce spreads <br />An inch around, with blind presumption bold, <br />Should dare to tax the structure of the whole. <br />And lives the man, whose universal eye <br />Has swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things; <br />Mark'd their dependence so, and firm accord, <br />As with unfalt'ring accent to conclude, <br />That this availeth nought? Has any seen <br />The mighty chain of beings, less'ning down <br />From infinite perfection, to the brink <br />Of dreary nothing, desolate abyss! <br />From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns? <br />Till then alone let zealous praise ascend, <br />And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power, <br />Whose wisdom shines as lovely in our minds, <br />As on our smiling eyes his servant-sun.<br /><br />James Thomson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nothing-formed-in-vain/
