The poem
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.