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Poem by George Herbert


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 within
The holy Preachers ; then the light and glorie
More rev'rend grows, & more doth win:
Which else shows watrish, bleak, & thin.

Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one
When they combine and mingle, bring
A strong regard and aw : but speech alone
Doth vanish like a flaring thing,
And in the eare, not conscience ring. 



George Herbert


George Herbert's other poems:
  1. Sin's Round
  2. Love (Immortal Love, authour of this great frame)
  3. Charms and Knots
  4. Clasping of Hands
  5. The Temper


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