AD Moodium

Tut! Moody, do not try to show
To gentlemen and ladies
That if they have not “Faith,” they’ll go
Headlong to Hades.

Faith is belief; and how can I
Have that by being willing?
This dime I cannot, though I try,
Believe a shilling.

Perhaps you can. If so, pray do—
Believe you own it, also.
But what seems evidence to you
I may not call so.

Heaven knows I’d like the Faith to think
This little vessel’s contents
Are liquid gold. I see ’tis ink
For writing nonsense.

Minds prone to Faith, however, may
Come now and then to sorrow:
They put their trust in truth to-day,
In lies to-morrow.

No doubt the happiness is great
To think as one would wish to;
But not to swallow every bait,
As certain fish do.

To think a snake a cord, I hope,
Would bolden and delight me;
But some day I might think a rope
Would chase and bite me.

“Curst Reason! Faith forever blest!”
You’re crying all the season.
Well, who decides that Faith is best?
Why, Mr. Reason.

He’s right or wrong; he answers you
According to your folly,
And says what you have taught him to,
Like any polly.