Tempests are calm to thee, they know thy hand, And hold it fast, as children do their fathers, Which cry and follow. Thou hast made poor sand

Check the proud sea, even when it swells and gathers.

Thy cupboard serves the world; the meat is set, Where all may reach; no beast but knows his feed.

Birds teach us hawking; fishes have their net :
The great prey on the less, they on some weed.

Nothing engend'red doth prevent his meat;
Flies have their tables spread, e're they appear;
Some creatures have in winter what to eat ;
Others do sleep, and envy not their cheer.

How finely dost thou times and seasons spin, And make a twist checker'd with night and

day!

Which as it lengthens, winds, and winds us in,
As bowls go on, but turning all the way.

Each creature hath a wisdom for his good.
The pigeons feed their tender offspring, crying,
When they are callow; but withdraw their food,
When they are fledged, that need may teach 'em
flying.

Bees work for man; and yet they never bruise Their master's flow'r, but leave it, having done, As fair as ever, and as fit to use:

So both the flow'r doth stay, and honey run.

Sheep eat the grass, and dung the ground for

more:

Trees after bearing drop their leaves for soil:

Springs vent their streams, and by expense get

store:

Clouds cool by heat, and baths by cooling boil.

Who hath the virtue to express the rare

And curious virtues both of herbs and stones?
Is there an herb for that? O that thy care
Would show a root that gives expressions'

And if an herb hath power, what have the stars! A rose, besides his beauty, is a cure.

Doubtless our plagues and plenty, peace and

wars

Are there much surer than our art is sure.

Thou hast hid metals: man may take them thence,
But at his peril; when he digs the place,
He makes a grave; as if the thing had sense,
And threatened man, that he should fill the space.

Ev'n poisons praise thee. Should a thing be lost? Should creatures want, for want of heed, their due ?

Since where are poisons, antidotes are most;
The help stands close, and keeps the fear in

view.

The sea, which seems to stop the traveller,
Is by a ship the speedier passage made.
The winds, who think they rule the mariner,
Are rul'd by him, and taught to serve his trade.

T

And as thy house is full, so I adore

Thy curious art in marshalling thy goods.

The hills with health abound, the vales with store, The south, with marble; north, with furs and woods.

Hard things are glorious; easy things, good cheap;
The common all men have; that which is rare,
Men therefore seek to have and care to keep.
The healthy frosts with summer fruits compare.

Light without wind is glass; warm without weight Is wool and furs; cool without coldness, shade; Speed without pains, a horse; tall without height, A servile hawk; low without loss, a spade.

All countries have enough to serve their need:
If they seek fine things, thou dost make them run
For their offence; and then dost turn their speed
To be commerce and trade from sun to sun.

Nothing wears clothes but man; nothing doth need
But he to wear them. Nothing useth fire,
But man alone to show his heavenly breed:
And only he hath fuel in desire.

When the earth was dry, thou mad'st a sea of wet; When that lay gather'd, thou didst broach the mountains';

When yet some places could no moisture get, The winds grew gard'ners, and the clouds good fountains.

Rain, do not hurt my flowers; but gently spend Your honey drops; press not to smell them here;

When they are ripe, their odour will ascend,
And at your lodging with their thanks appear.

How harsh are thorns to pears! and yet they make

A better hedge, and need less reparation.
How smooth are silks, compared with a stake,
Or with a stone! yet make no good foundation.

Sometimes thou dost divide thy gifts to man;
Sometimes unite. The Indian nut alone
Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and can,
Boat, cable, sail and needle, all in one.

Most herbs that grow in brooks are hot and dry;
Cold fruits warm kernels help against the wind:
The lemon's juice and rind cure mutually:
The whey of milk doth loose, the milk doth bind.

To show thou art not bound, as if thy lot Were worse than ours, sometimes thou shiftest hands.

Most things move th' under jaw; the crocodile

not.

Most things sleep lying; the elephant leans or stands.

But who hath praise enough? nay, who hath any?

None can express thy works but he that knows

them;

And none can know thy works, which are SO

many,

And so complete, but only he that owns them.

All things that are, though they have several

ways,

Yet in their being join with one advice

To honour thee; and so I give thee praise
In all my other hymns, but in this twice.

Each thing that is, although in use and name
It go for one, hath many ways in store
To honour thee: and so each hymn thy fame
Extolleth many ways; yet this, one more.

GRATEFULNESS.

THOU that hast given so much to me,
Give one thing more, a grateful heart.
See how thy beggar works on thee

By art.

He makes thy gifts occasion more,
And says, If he in this be cross'd,
All thou hast given him heretofore
Is lost.

But thou didst reckon, when at first

Thy word our hearts and hands did crave,

What it would come to at the worst

To save.

Perpetual knockings at thy door;

Tears sullying thy transparent rooms;
Gift upon gift; much would have more,

And comes.