And thousands more as beautiful as these
(Unknown to us) may sport in distant Seas.
Who then would vainly strive with curious Pride
To find what Heav'n has to our Search deny'd,
When ign'rant of our home we cannot guess
At half the Store, and Riches we possess?
Better would humbly we our selves contain
Within our reach, and not indulge our Pain.
When once the Soul shall quit this earthly Case,
And fly unbodied in the endless Space,
The Essences of things shall all appear,
And naked Forms (as in themselves they were)
Nature will then unlock her secret Store:
The Vail of Sense shall hide her Face no more.
Mean while enough we are allow'd to enjoy,
T'improve our Reason, and our Thoughts employ.
Loose not too much the Reins to wild Desire:
Shrimps may not grow to Crabs, nor Orks to Whales aspire.
We see enough to please our labouring Minds,
How Nature sports her self in antick kinds.
A thousand different Forms we hourly view,
And thro' moist Paths the flying Shoals persue.