3 мин


My God,

I heard this

That none doth build a stately habitation    But he that means to dwell therein.    What house more stately hath there been,

Or can be, than is Man? to whose creation              All things are in decay.              For Man is ev'ry thing,

And more:

He is a tree, yet bears more fruit;    A beast, yet is, or should be, more;    Reason and speech we onely bring;

Parrats may thank us if they are not mute,              They go upon the score.              Man is all symmetrie,

Full of proportions, one limbe to another,    And all to all the world besides:    Each part may call the farthest, brother:

For head with foot hath private amitie,              And both with moons and tides.              Nothing hath got so farre,

But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey.    His eyes dismount the highest starre:    He is in little all the sphere.

Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they              Find their acquaintance there.              For us the windes do blow;

The earth doth rest, heav'n move, and fountains flow.    Nothing we see, but means our good,    As our delight, or as our treasure;

The whole is, either our cupboard of food,              Or cabinet of pleasure.              The starres have us to bed;

Night draws the curtain, which the sunne withdraws:    Musick and light attend our head;    All things unto our flesh are

In their descent and being; to our minde              In their ascent and cause.              Each thing is full of dutie:

Waters united are our navigation;    Distinguished, our habitation;    Below, our drink; above, our meat:

Both are our cleanlinesse.

Hath one such beautie?              Then how are all things neat!              More servants wait on Man,

Than he'l take notice of: in ev'ry path    He treads down that which doth befriend him,    When sicknesse makes him pale and wan.

Oh mightie love!

Man is one world, and hath              Another to attend him.              Since then, my God, thou

So brave a Palace built;

O dwell in it,    That it may dwell with thee at last!    Till then, afford us so much wit;

That, as the world serves us, we may serve thee,              And both thy servants be.1. day: perhaps in the Church lesson for the day. 7.

For Man is ev'ry thing:

An elaboration of the idea of man as a microcosm, or little world, compared to the great world of the universe. 12.

They go upon the score.:

Are in debt.


George Herbert

George Herbert (3 April 1593 – 1 March 1633)[1] was a Welsh-born poet, orator, and priest of the Church of England. His poetry is associated wit…

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