The Windows

Lord, how can man preach thy eternall word?

      He is a brittle crazie glasse;

Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford

      This 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 within

The holy preacher's; then the light and glorie

      More rev'rend grows, and more doth win;

      Which else shows watrish, bleak, and thin.

Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one

      When they combine and mingle, bring

A strong regard and aw: but speech alone

      Doth vanish like a flaring thing,

      And in the eare, not conscience ring.