Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 36.djvu/48

But the first springs are made by God's own hand,
Of source divine, they shall forever stand.
To practise them the child a man must grow,
Their force he cannot in the cradle know.
The sparrow when he first beholds the light,
Can he unfledged feel amorous delight?
Do new-born foxes prey to seek begin?
Do insects taught by nature silk to spin,
Or do the humming swarms, whose artful skill,
Can wax compose, and honey's sweets distil,
Soon as they see the day their work produce?
Time ripens and brings all things into use,
All beings have their object, and they tend
At a fixed period to their destined end.
Passion, 'tis true, may hurry us along,
Sometimes the just may deviate into wrong.
Oft man from good to hated evil flies,
None in all moments virtuous are or wise.
We're told that man's a mystery o'er and o'er;
All nature as mysterious is or more.
Philosophers sagacious and profound,
The beasts' sure instinct could you ever sound?
The nature of the grass can you explain,
That dies, then rising spreads a verdant plain?
This world a veil o'erspreads of darkest night,
If through the deep obscure the glimmering light
Of reason serves to guide us on our way,
Should we extinguish it, and go astray.
When God first filled the vast expanse of sky,
Bid oceans flow and kindled suns on high;
He said, "Be in your limits fixed contained,"
And in their bounds the rising worlds remained.