Methinks the world is oddly made, And every thing's amiss, A dull, presuming Atheist said, As stretch'd he lay beneath a shade, And instanc'd it in this: Behold, quoth he, that mighty thing, A pumpkin large and round, Is held but by a little string, Which upwards cannot make it spring, Or bear it from the ground. While on this oak an acorn small, So disproportion'd grows; That who with sense surveys this all, This universal casual ball, Its ill contrivance knows. My better judgment would have hung The pumpkin on the tree, And left the acorn, lightly strung, 'Mongst things which on the surface sprung, And small and feeble be. No more the caviller could say, Nor farther faults descry; For as he upwards gazing lay, An acorn, loosen'd from its stay, Fell down upon his eye. The wounded part with tears ran o'er, As punish'd for the sin; Fool! had that bough a pumpkin bore, Thy whimsies would have work'd no more, Nor scull have kept them in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN OF PAN by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY ON SEEING THE SUN SHINE ... MY WINDOW FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE YEAR by LUCY AIKEN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 52. YA HAKK by EDWIN ARNOLD THE ORGAN GRINDER by RONALD WALKER BARR CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 3. OF CONTENTMENT by WILLIAM BASSE THE ARGO'S CHANTY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET AN OLD DREAM by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE A LARGE EVENING AT THE CLUB (AS IT WAS ONCE) by BERTON BRALEY |