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That in a happier world, when this is past, They may enjoy true blessedness for ever.

Then why hold all this coil concerning that Which is so plain, and excellent, and acknowledged?

Because they have in busy restless zeal Raised to importance slight and trivial parts; Contending for them, till they have at last Believed them of more moment, ev'n than all The plain and lib'ral tenor of the whole. As if we should maintain a wart or mole To be the main distinctions of a man, Rather than the fair brow and upright form,— The graceful, general lineaments of nature.

This is indeed most strange: how hath it been?

The Scripture lay before them like the sky, With all its glorious stars, in some smooth pool Clearly reflected, till in busy idleness, Like children gath'ring pebbles on its brink, Each needs must cast his mite of learning in To try its depth, till sky, and stars, and glory, Become one wrinkled maze of wild confusion. But that good Scripture and its blessed Author