Tixall Poetry.
311
A Contemplation
upon the Shortness and Shallowness on Human Knowledge.
If of the smallest star in sky
We know not the immensity;
If those pure sparkes that stars compose,
The highest human wit doe pose;
How then, poore shallow man! canst thou
The Maker of those gioryes know!
We know not the immensity;
If those pure sparkes that stars compose,
The highest human wit doe pose;
How then, poore shallow man! canst thou
The Maker of those gioryes know!
If we know not the air we draw,
Nor what keepes winds and waves in awe;
if our small sculls cannot containe
The flux and saltness of the maine;
If scarce a cause we ken below,
How can we the Supernail know!
Nor what keepes winds and waves in awe;
if our small sculls cannot containe
The flux and saltness of the maine;
If scarce a cause we ken below,
How can we the Supernail know!
