Excerpt from Valhalla: A Novel

For me kind nature wakes her genial pow'r,

Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r;

Annual for me the grape, the rose renew

The juice nectarious, and the balmy dew;

For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings;

For me, health gushes from a thousand springs;

Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise;

My foot-stool earth, my canopy the skies.

But errs not nature from this gracious end,

From burning suns when livid deaths descend,

When earth-quakes swallow, or when tempests sweep

Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep?

No('tis reply'd), the first almighty cause

Acts not by partial, but by general laws;

Th' exceptions few, some change since all began;

And what created perfect? - why then man?

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