Verse 1
Who can the sudden turns explain,
Or trust the various hearts of men?
This hour they cry with sacred fear
“The gods in human shape appear!”
The next they contradict the word,
And persecute whom they ador’d,
Curses instead of praises give,
And stone the wretch not fit to live.
Verse 2
And can a messenger be proud,
Extol’d by the admiring croud
Honours divine with joy receive,
Which sinners blasphemously give?
Ah no: the praise that comes from men
Exchanging for reproach and pain,
He would be like th’ Apostle tried,
And rather slain than deified.