| John Donne (1572–1631). The Poems of John Donne. 1896. | | | | Divine Poems | | 4. Temple |
| | | With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe, | |
| Joseph, turn back; see where your child doth sit, | |
| Blowing, yea blowing out those sparks of wit, | |
| Which Himself on the doctors did bestow. | |
| The Word but lately could not speak, and lo! | 5 |
| It suddenly speaks wonders; whence comes it, | |
| That all which was, and all which should be writ, | |
| A shallow seeming child should deeply know? | |
| His Godhead was not soul to His manhood, | |
| Nor had time mellow’d Him to this ripeness; | 10 |
| But as for one which hath a long task, ’tis good, | |
| With the sun to begin His business, | |
| He in His age’s morning thus began, | |
| By miracles exceeding power of man. | | | | |
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