| HONOUR is so sublime perfection, | |
| And so refinde; that when God was alone | |
| And creaturelesse at first, himselfe had none; | |
| |
| But as of the elements, these which wee tread, | |
| Produce all things with which wee'are joy'd or fed, | 5 |
| And, those are barren both above our head: | |
| |
| So from low persons doth all honour flow; | |
| Kings, whom they would have honoured, to us show, | |
| And but direct our honour, not bestow. | |
| |
| For when from herbs the pure part must be wonne | 10 |
| From grosse, by Stilling, this is better done | |
| By despis'd dung, then by the fire or Sunne. | |
| |
| Care not then, Madame,'how low your praysers lye; | |
| In labourers balads oft more piety | |
| God findes, then in Te Deums melodie. | 15 |
| |
| And, ordinance rais'd on Towers, so many mile | |
| Send not their voice, nor last so long a while | |
| As fires from th'earths low vaults in Sicil Isle. | |
| |
| Should I say I liv'd darker then were true, | |
| Your radiation can all clouds subdue; | 20 |
| But one, 'tis best light to contemplate you. | |
| |
| You, for whose body God made better clay, | |
| Or tooke Soules stuffe such as shall late decay, | |
| Or such as needs small change at the last day. | |
| |
| This, as an Amber drop enwraps a Bee, | 25 |
| Covering discovers your quicke Soule; that we | |
| May in your through-shine front your hearts thoughts see. | |
| |
| You teach (though wee learne not) a thing unknowne | |
| To our late times, the use of specular stone, | |
| Through which all things within without were shown. | 30 |
| |
| Of such were Temples; so and of such you are; | |
| Beeing and seeming is your equall care, | |
| And vertues whole summe is but know and dare. | |
| |
| But as our Soules of growth and Soules of sense | |
| Have birthright of our reasons Soule, yet hence | 35 |
| They fly not from that, nor seeke presidence: | |
| |
| Natures first lesson, so, discretion, | |
| Must not grudge zeale a place, nor yet keepe none, | |
| Not banish it selfe, nor religion. | |
| |
| Discretion is a wisemans Soule, and so | 40 |
| Religion is a Christians, and you know | |
| How these are one; her yea, is not her no. | |
| |
| Nor may we hope to sodder still and knit | |
| These two, and dare to breake them; nor must wit | |
| Be colleague to religion, but be it. | 45 |
| |
| In those poor types of God (round circles) so | |
| Religions tipes the peeclesse centers flow, | |
| And are in all the lines which all wayes goe. | |
| |
| If either ever wrought in you alone | |
| Or principally, then religion | 50 |
| Wrought your ends, and your wayes discretion. | |
| |
| Goe thither stil, goe the same way you went, | |
| Who so would change, do covet or repent; | |
| Neither can reach you, great and innocent. | |
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