Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

The World's an Index to Eternity,
And gives a glance of what our cleerer eye,
In time shall see at large; nothing's so slight,
Which in it nature sends not forth some light,
Or Memorandum of his Makers Glory:
No Dust so vile, but pens an ample story

253

Of the Almighties power, nor is there that,
Which gives not man just cause to wonder at.

Cast down thine eies, behold the pregnant earth,
(Her selfe but one) produceth at one birth
A world of divers natures: From a seed
Entirely one, things hot and cold proceed,
She suckles with one milke, things moist, and dry,
Yet in her wombe is no repugnancy.

Or shall thy reason ramble up so high,
To view the Court of wilde Astronomy?
Behold the Planets, round about thine eares,
Whirling like firebals in their restlesse Spheares,
Atone selfe-instant moving severall wayes,
Still measuring out our short, and shorter dayes.
Behold the parts whereon the World consists,
Are limited in their appointed lists,
Without rebellion unapt to vary,
Though being many, divers and contrary:
Looke where we list, above, beneath, or under,
Our eyes shall see to learne, and learne to wonder;
Their depth shall drown our judgements, and their height
Besides his wits, shal drive the prime cōceit:
Shall then our daring minds presume t'aspire
To heavens hid Myst'ries? shall our thoughts inquire
Into the depth of secrets, unconfounded,
When in the shoare of Nature they were drowned?

Fond man be wise, strive not above thy strength.
Tempt not thy Barke beyond her Cables length;
And, like Prometheus, filch no sacred fire,
Lest Eagles gripe thee: Let thy proud desire
Suit with thy fortunes; Curious mindes, that shall
Mount up with Phaeton, shall have Phaetons fall.
Vnbend thy bow betimes, lest thou repent
Too late, for it will breake, or else stand bent.

254

I'le work at home, ne'r crosse the scorching Line,
In unknowne lands, to seeke a hidden Mine:
Plaine Bullion pleaseth me, I not desire
Deare Ignots from th'Elixars techy fire;
I'le spend my paines (where best I may be bold)
To know my selfe, wherein I shall behold
The world abridg'd, and in that world my Maker,
Beyond which taske, I wish no Vndertaker.

Great God, by whom it is, what-e're is mine,
Make me thy Viceroy in this World of thine,
So cleare mine eyes, that I may comprehend
My slight beginning, and my sudden end.