Poems (Hoffman)/Man by Wisdom Cannot Find Out God

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

MAN BY WISDOM CANNOT FIND OUT GOD

Ye who ascend to the celestial heavens
To study planets, stars and asteroids
And view the wonders of the stellar worlds,
Countless in number, hurrying through space,
Planned in such perfect mechanism, that not one
Swerves from the course, in which some all-wise power
Has destined it to move, setting a bound
Over which all the powers and arguments of man
 Cannot compel it to revolve.

           And ye who delve
After the hidden treasures of the earth
To resurrect from stores of ages dead
And bring to light the history of the past,
The strange formation of the solid rock,
Vegetation submerged long centuries ago,
Metals and gems, sands and the compact clay,
All furnishing new scope for thought,
New truths for science to delineate
And new surmises, questionings and doubts;
Astronomers, geologists and all who explore
The vast cathedral of this universe,
Whose vaulted roof, far as the eye can reach,
Clear azure, spangled o'er with gold by night
$And oft diversified with clouds by day,
Spreads out a beauteous covering for earth
Whose corridors and galleries and aisles
With emerald carpetings, broidered with flowers
And leafy draperies with silvery ribbons
 Winding in and out;

           And the great basins,
Fountains, cisterns and vast reservoirs
Supplying man with bounteous blessings
           And delights;

            The wind and waves
Sweet instruments of music
With all their delicate, vibrating chords
Sounding from shore to shore, accompanied by
Thousands of voices from the sea and land,
And all in matchless harmony composing
The choir of Nature's temple and her God.

You who can analyze the various parts
Of this great structure, with its countless domes
Towering beyond where human thought has reached,
May boast to comprehend the wondrous wisdom
The great Architect displays in this, His handiwork.

           To me
The smallest seed contains enough
To make man's great devices seem but small,
Though to the casual observer it might seem
Of small importance, a mere lifeless thing,
Possessing neither beauty, grace or worth;
But place it where it can draw sustenance
From the rich soil, the dews, refreshing showers
And the warm sunbeams;

           All is still;
No faint suggestion of a change disturbs the spot—
But go thy way; when a few days or weeks have passed—behold,
From that same spot, two tiny leaflets peep and seem to say,
"Have we not earned a place in which to grow?"

Weeks pass away, the tiny embryo
Little by little increases and expands
To a symmetrical and beauteous plant,
Budding and blossoming and throwing out
Such perfume as no chemist could compound;
A marvelous work and silently performed,
Thus teaching us that oft most grand results
May be obtained by quiet action,
Silent and sublime.

Who can form such a gem? Can mortal hands?
Let science delve and analyze, create and shape
The exact image of the little seed;
Plant it and wait and wait 'till centuries have passed,—
She waits in vain, sunbeams and showers combined
Can never coax to life a lifeless thing;
And thus we learn that some creating power
Not in the reach of man, has touched to life and action
What without, were dead.

Man cannot comprehend this wondrous power,
He can but catch a faint idea of its magnitude
Beyond the reach of science and of thought,
Beyond the limit of the mortal mind
It reaches out, omnipotent, eternal and all-wise
Search for that power, whose stamp is on the earth
Setting in motion every living thing;
Waking to life the flowers, the birds, the trees,
And giving being unto man and beast;
Then you may realize the awful truth,
That man by wisdom cannot find out God.