Now with abstracted flight he climbs apace,
High and more high, through pure unbounded space;
Now mere privation fails the wings of thought,
He drops down headlong through the vast of nought;
A friendly vapour Mathesis supplies,
Born on the surging smoak he joys to rise;
Matter thro' modes and qualities pursues,
Now caught, entranc'd its naked essence views;
Now wakes; the vision fading from his sight
Leaves doubts behind, the mists of mental night:
Existing not, but possible alone,
He deems all substance, and suspects his own;
Like wave by wave impell'd, now questions roll —
Does soul in ought subsist, or all in soul?
Is space, extension, nothing but a name,
And mere idea Nature's mighty frame?
All power, all forms, to intellect confin'd:
Place, agent, subject, instrument combin'd?
Is spirit diverse, yet from number free,
Conjoin'd by harmony in unity? —
Truth's spotless white what piercing eye descries,
When the ray broken takes Opinion's dyes! —
In vain now Philo seeks the sacred light,
In Chaos plung'd, where embryo systems fight.