On Exodus iii. 14. I am that I am. An ODE.

Written in 1688, as an Exercise at St. John's College, Cambridge. 

I.

Man! Foolish Man! 
Scarce know'st Thou how thy self began:
 Scarce hast Thou Thought enough to prove Thou art:
 Yet steel'd with study'd Boldness, Thou dar'st try
 To send thy doubting Reason's dazled Eye
 Through the mysterious Gulph of vast Immensity. 
Much Thou canst there discern, much thence impart. 
Vain Wretch! suppress thy knowing Pride:
 Mortifie thy learned Lust:
 Vain are thy Thoughts; while Thou thy self are Dust. 

II.

Let Wit her Sails, her Oars let Wisdom lend:
 The Helm let Politick Experience guide:
 Yet cease to hope thy short-liv'd Bark shall ride
 Down spreading Fate's unnavigable Tide. 
What, tho' still it farther tend? 
Still 'tis farther from it's End;
 And, in the Bosom of that boundless Sea,
 Still finds it's Error lengthen with it's Way. 

III.

With daring Pride and insolent Delight
 Your Doubts resolv'd you boast, your Labours crown'd;
 And, EYPHKA! your GOD, forsooth, is found
 Incomprehensible and Infinite. 
But is He therefore found? Vain Searcher! no:
 Let your imperfect Definition show,
 That nothing You, the weak Definer, know. 

IV.

Say, why should the collected Main
 It self within it self contain? 
Why to its Caverns should it sometimes creep,
 And with delighted Silence sleep
 On the lov'd Bosom of it's Parent Deep? 
Why shou'd it's num'rous Waters stay
 In comely Discipline, and fair Array,
 'Till Winds and Tides exert their high Commands? 
Then prompt and ready to obey,
 Why do the rising Surges spread
 Their op'ning Ranks o'er Earth's submissive Head,
 Marching thro' different Paths to different Lands? 

V.

Why does the constant Sun
 With measur'd Steps his radiant Journeys run? 
Why does He order the Diurnal Hours
 To leave Earth's other Part, and rise in Our's? 
Why does He wake the correspondent Moon,
 And fill her willing Lamp with liquid Light,
 Commanding Her with delegated Pow'rs
 To beautifie the World, and bless the Night? 
Why does each animated Star
 Love the just Limits of it's proper Sphere? 
Why does each consenting Sign
 With prudent Harmony combine
 In Turns to move, and subsequent appear
 To gird the Globe, and regulate the Year? 

VI.

Man does with dangerous Curiosity
 These unfathom'd Wonders try:
 With fancy'd Rules and arbitrary Laws
 Matter and Motion He restrains;
 And study'd Lines, and fictious Circles draws:
 Then with imagin'd Soveraignty
 Lord of his new Hypothesis He reigns. 
He reigns? How long? 'till some Usurper rise:
 And He too, mighty thoughtful, mighty wise,
 Studies new Lines, and other Circles feigns. 
From this last Toil again what Knowledge flows? 
Just as much, perhaps, as shows,
 That all his Predecessor's Rules
 Were empty Cant, all Jargon of the Schools;
 That he on t'other's Ruin rears his Throne;
 And shows his Friend's Mistake, and thence confirms his own. 

VII.

On Earth, in Air, amidst the Seas and Skies,
 Mountainous Heaps of Wonders rise;
 Whose tow'ring Strength will ne'er submit
 To Reason's Batt'ries, or the Mines of Wit:
 Yet still enquiring, still mistaking Man,
 Each Hour repuls'd, each Hour dare onward press;
 And levelling at GOD his wand'ring Guess
 (That feeble Engine of his reasoning War,
 Which guides his Doubts, and combats his Despair)
 Laws to his Maker the learn'd Wretch can give;
 Can bound that Nature, and prescribe that Will,
 Whose pregnant Word did either Ocean fill;
 Can tell us whence all Beings are, and how they move and live. 
Thro' either Ocean (foolish Man!) 
That pregnant Word sent forth again,
 Might to a World extend each Atom there;
 For every Drop call forth a Sea, a Heav'n for every Star. 

VIII.

Let cunning Earth her fruitful Wonders hide;
 And only lift thy stagg'ring Reason up
 To trembling Calvary's astonish'd Top:
 Then mock thy Knowledge, and confound thy Pride,
 Explaining how Perfection suffer'd Pain;
 Almighty languish'd; and Eternal dy'd:
 How by her Patient Victor Death was slain;
 And Earth prophan'd, yet bless'd with Deicide. 
Then down with all thy boasted Volumes, down:
 Only reserve the Sacred One:
 Low, reverently low,
 Make thy stubborn Knowledge bow;
 Weep out thy Reason's, and thy Body's Eyes;
 Deject thy self, that Thou may'st rise;
 To look to Heav'n, be blind to all below. 

IX.

Then Faith, for Reason's glimmering Light, shall give
 Her Immortal Perspective;
 And Grace's Presence Nature's Loss retrieve:
 Then thy enliven'd Soul shall see,
 That all the Volumes of Philosophy,
 With all their Comments, never cou'd invent
 So politick an Instrument,
 To reach the Heav'n of Heav'ns, the high Abode,
 Where Moses places his Mysterious GOD,
 As was that Ladder which old Jacob rear'd,
 When Light Divine had human Darkness clear'd;
 And his enlarg'd Ideas found the Road,
 Which Faith had dictated, and Angels trod.