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.
