Scepticism Poem by John Bowring

Scepticism



If to deny that God hath cursed the child,
And doomed it to perdition-to deny
That He, who sits and reigns above the sky,
Hath, in His unquenched wrath and vengeance wild,
Doomed man to endless misery, then am I
An unbeliever bold; and though reviled,
Will lift an energetic voice on high,
And call on Heaven, as merciful as mild,
To help me to denounce the calumny
Which outrages thy Providence and Thee,
Making Thee not a Father, but a fiend.
No! this is not religion-this is not
A divine beauty, but a damnèd blot-
Wash it out, every wave! disperse it, every wind!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success