The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/The Windows
For works with similar titles, see Windows.
¶ The Windows.
LOrd, how can man preach thy eternall word?He is a brittle crazie glasse:Yet in thy temple thou dost him affordThis glorious and transcendent place,To be a window, through thy grace.
But when thou dost anneal in glasse thy storie,Making thy life to shine withinThe holy Preachers; then the light and glorieMore rev'rend grows, & more doth win;Which else shows watrish, bleak, & thin.
Doctrine and life, colours and light, in oneWhen they combine and mingle, bringA strong regard and aw: but speech aloneDoth vanish like a flaring thing,And in the eare, not conscience ring.