The Babe is more than swadling Bands;
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made, and born were hands,
Every Farmer Understands.
He who mocks the Infant’s Faith
Shall be mock’d in Age and Death.
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall ne’er get out.
He who respects the Infant’s faith
Triumphs over Hell and Death.
The Questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to Reply.
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out.
A Riddle or the Cricket’s Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply.
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er believe, do what you Please.
If the Sun and Moon should doubt
They’d immediately Go out.
Every Night and every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet Delight.
Some are Born to sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night.
God Appears and God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night,
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day.