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

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, bringA strong regard and aw: but speech alone      Doth vanish like a flaring thing,      And in the eare, not conscience ring.