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Tixall Poetry.
If it be a misterious thing,
Why steele should to the loadstone cling;
If we know not why jett should draw,
And with such kisses hug a straw;
If none can truly yet reveale,
How simpathetick powders heale:
Why steele should to the loadstone cling;
If we know not why jett should draw,
And with such kisses hug a straw;
If none can truly yet reveale,
How simpathetick powders heale:
If we scarce know the earth we tred,
Or half the simples there are bred,
With mineralls, and thousand thinges,
Which for man's food and health she bringes
If nature's so obscure, then how
Can we the God of nature know?
Or half the simples there are bred,
With mineralls, and thousand thinges,
Which for man's food and health she bringes
If nature's so obscure, then how
Can we the God of nature know?
What the bat's eye is to the sun,
Or of a gloworme to the moone,
The same is human intellect,
If on our Maker we reflect;
Whose magnitude is so immense,
That it transcends both soule and sense.
Or of a gloworme to the moone,
The same is human intellect,
If on our Maker we reflect;
Whose magnitude is so immense,
That it transcends both soule and sense.
Poore purblind man! then sit thee still,
Let wonderment thy temples fill:
Let wonderment thy temples fill:
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