Category: Poetry

From John Dryden’s Religio Laici

[Some proofs of the divinity of Scripture �though by no means all Dryden mentions]

Whether from length of Time its worth we draw,

The World is scarce more Antient than the Law:

Heav’ns early Care prescib’d for every Age;

First, in the Soul, and after, in the Page.

Or, whether more abstractedly we look,

Or on the Writers, or the written Book,

Whence, but from Heav’n, cou’d Men unskill’d in arts,

In several Ages born, in several parts,

Weave such agreeing Truths? or how or why

Shou’d all conspire to cheat us with a Lye?

Unask’d their Pains, ungrateful their Advice,

Starving their Gain, and Martyrdom their Price.

First, a famous lady giving a classic example of the problem of this post’s title.

�Dear Lord, if you spare this town from becoming a smoking hole in the ground, I’ll try to be a better Christian. I don’t know what I can do … umm … ooh! The next time there’s a canned food drive I’ll give the poor something they’d actually like instead of old lima beans and pumpkin mix.�

(Marge Simpson, The Simpsons, Vol 1. of The Complete Third Season, Collectors Edition, �Homer Defined� 07:51-8:10)

Second, John Dryden explaining that God will not be satisfied with your absurd offers to make up for sin.

From John Dryden’s Religio Laici

[Of the moral inadequacy of Deism in the light of man’s sin]

Dar’st thou, poor Worm, offend Infinity?

And must the Terms of Peace be given by Thee?

Then Thou art Justice in the last Appeal;

Thy easy God instructs thee to rebell:

And, like a King remote, and weak, must take

What Satisfaction Thou art pleas’d to make.

But if there be a Pow’r too Just, and strong

To wink at Crimes, and bear unpunish’d Wrong;

Look humbly upward, see his Will disclose

The Forfeit first, and then the Fine impose:

A Mulct thy Poverty could never pay

Had not Eternal Wisdom found the way:

And with C�lestial Wealth supply’d thy Store:

His Justice makes the Fine, his Mercy quits the Score.

See God descending in thy Humane Frame;

Th’ offended, suff’ring in th’ Offenders Name:

All thy Misdeed to him imputed see;

And all his Righteousness devolv’d on thee.

For granting we have Sin’d, and that th’ offence

Of Man, is made against Omnipotence,

Some Price, that bears proportion, must be paid;

And Infinite with Infinite be weigh’d.

See then the Deist lost: Remorse for Vice,

Not paid, or paid, inadequate in price:

What farther means can Reason now direct,

Or what Relief from human Wit expect?

That shews us sick; and sadly are we sure

Still to be Sick, till Heav’n reveal the Cure:

If then Heaven’s Will must needs be understood.

(Which must, if we want Cure, and Heaven, be Good)

Let all Records of Will reveal’d be shown;

With Scripture, all in equal balance thrown,

And our one Sacred Book will be That one.

From John Dryden’s Religio Laici

[Of the moral inadequacy of paganism in the light of man’s sin]

If Sheep and Oxen cou’d attone for Men

Ah! at how cheap a rate the Rich might sin!

From John Dryden’s The Hind & the Panther

But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide

For erring judgments an unerring guide!

Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light,

A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.

O! teach me to believe thee thus conceal’d,

And search no further than thyself reveal’d;

But Her alone for my director take,

Whom thou hast promis’d never to forsake.

My thoughtless youth was wing’d with vain desires;

My manhood long misled by wan’dring fires,

Follow’d false lights; and when their glimpse was gone

My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.

Such was I, such by nature still I am;

Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame.

Good life be now my task: my doubts are done;

What more could shock my faith than Three in One?