Upon Nothing. A POEM.  By a Person of Honour. 

NOthing, thou Elder-Brother, Eve to shade,  
Thou hadst a Being ere the World was made,  
Well fixed alone, of ending not afraid.   

ere Time and Place were, Time and Place were not,  
When primitive Nothing, Something straight begot;  
Then all proceeded from the great united What!   

Something, the General Attribute of all,  
Severed from Thee its sole Original,  
Into thy boundless Self, must undistinguished fall.   

Yet Something, did thy Nothing Power command,  
And from thy Fruitful Emptinesses Hand,  
Snatch Men, Beasts, Birds, Fire, Water, Air and Land.   

Matter, the wickedest Offspring of thy Race,  
By Form assisted, flew from thy Embrace,  
And Rebel Light obscured thy Reverend dusky Face.   

With Form and Matter, Time and Place did join;  
Body, thy Foe, with these did Leagues combine,  
To spoil thy Peaceful Reign, and ruin all thy Line.   

But Turncoat Time, assists the Foe in vain;  
And bribed by Thee, destroys their short-lived Reign,  
And to thy hungry Womb, drives back the Slaves again.   

Thy Mysteries are hid from Laic Eyes,  
And the Divine alone by warrant pries  
Into thy Bosom, where thy Truth in private lies.   

Yet this of thee, the Wise may truly say,  
Thou from the Virtuous, nothing takes away,  
And to be part of thee, the Wicked wisely Pray.   

Great Negative! how vainly would the Wise  
Inquire, Design, Distinguish, Teach, Devise,  
Didst not thou stand to point their Blind Philosophies.   

Is, or is not, the Two great Ends of Fate,  
Of True or False, the Subject of debate,  
That perfects or destroys designs of State.   

When they have wracked the Politicians Breast,  
Within thy Bosom most securely Rest,  
Reduced to Thee are least, though safe and best.   

But Nothing, why doth Something still permit,  
That Sacred Monarches should at Council sit  
With Persons thought, at best, for Nothing fit?   

Whilst weighty Something, modestly abstains  
From Princes Courts, & from the Statesman's brains;  
And Nothing there like stately Nothing Reigns.   

Nothing, that dwells with Fools, in grave disguise,  
For whom they Reverend Forms & Shapes devise,  
Lawn Sleeves, and Furs, and Gowns, when they look Wise.   

French Truth, Dutch Prowess, British Policy,  
Hibernian Learning, Scotch Civility,  
Spaniards Dispatch, Danes Wit are seen in Thee   

The Great Man's gratitude to his best Friend,  
Court ' promises, Whores vows, towards thee, I bend  
Flow Swift, Fly into Thee, and severs in the End.   
FINIS.