Herald Of The Times

THE MECHANISM OF MAN

[SELECTED.]

Fond Atheist! cut'st a giddy dance
Of atoms blindly hurl'd,
Produce so regular, so fair,
So harmonized a world?
Why do not Lybia's driving sands,
The sport of every storm,
A palace bear, the child of chance,
Or there a temple form?
Presumptuous wretch! thyself survey;
That lesser fabric scan;
Tell me from whence the immortal dust,
The God, the reptile man?
Where wast thou when the embryo earth
From chaos burst its sway;
When stars exulting sang the morn,
And hailed the new born day!
What fingers brace the tender nerves,
The twisting fibres spin?
Who clothes in flesh the hardening bone,
And weaves the silken skin?
How came the brain and beating heart,
Life's more immediate throne
Where fatal every touch to dwell
Immailed in solid bone?
Who taught the wandering tides of blood
To leave the vital urn;
Visit each limb in purple streams,
And faithfully return?
How knows the nerves to bear the will
The heavy limbs to wield?
The tongue ten thousand tastes discern,
Ten thousand accents yield?
How knows the lungs to heave and pant,
Or how the fringed lid
To guard the faithful eye, or brush
The sullied ball, unbid?
The delicate and winding ear
To image every sound—
The eye to catch the pleasing view,
And tell the senses round?
Who bade the babe new launched in life,
The milky draught arrest,
And with its eager fingers press
The nectar streaming breast?
Who with a love too big for words,
The mother's bosom warms
Along the rugged paths of life,
To bear it in her arms?
God! a God! creation shouts;
A God! each insect cries;
He moulded in his pulse the earth,
And hung it in the skies.

[From the New-England Magazine.]