Several Discourses Considering the Providence of God, Poem
Mr. GEORGE HERBERT ON Providence.
O Sacred Providence, who from end to end
Strongly and ſweetly moveſt! ſhall I write,
And not of thee, through whom my fingers bend
To hold my quill? ſhall they not do thee right?
Of all the creatures both in ſea and land,
Only to man thou haſt made known thy ways,
And put the pen alone into his hand,
And made him Secretary of thy praiſe.
Beaſts fain would ſing; Birds ditty to their notes;
Trees would be turning on their native Lute
To thy renown: but all their hands and throats
Are brought to Man, while they are lame and mute.
Man is the Worlds High-Prieſt: he doth preſent
The Sacrifice for all; while they below
Ʋnto the Service mutter an aſſent,
Such as Springs uſe that fall, and Winds that blow.
He that to praiſe and laud thee doth refrain,
Doth not refrain unto himſelf alone,
But robs a thouſand who would praiſe thee fain;
And doth commit a world of ſin in one.
The Beaſts ſay, Eat me: but, if beaſts muſt teach,
The Tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praiſe.
The Trees ſay, Pull me: but the hand you ſtretch,
Is mine to write, as it is yours to raiſe.
Wherefore, moſt Sacred Spirit, I here preſent
For me and all my fellows, praiſe to thee:
And just it is that I ſhould pay the rent,
Becauſe the benefit accrues to me.
We all acknowledg both thy power and love
To be exact, tranſcendent, and divine;
Who dost ſo ſtrongly and ſo ſweetly move,
While all things have their will, yet none but thine.
For either thy Command, or thy Permiſſion
Lay hands on all: they are thy right and left,
The first puts on with ſpeed and expedition;
The other curbs ſins stealing pace and theft.
Nothing eſcapes them both: all must appear,
And be diſpos'd and dreſs'd, and tun'd by thee,
Who ſweetly temper'st all. If we could hear
Thy skill and art, what muſick would it be!
Thou art in ſmall things great, not ſmall in any:
Thy even praiſe can neither riſe nor fall.
Thou art in all things one, in each thing many:
For thou art infinite in one, and all.
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, ev'n 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 ingendred doth prevent his meat;
Flies have their table …read, e're they appear.
Some creatures have in winter what to eat;
Others do ſleep, and envy not their chear.
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 off-ſpring, crying,
When they are callow; but withdraw their food
When they are fledg, that need may teach them flying.
Bees work for man; and yet they never bruiſe
Their Masters 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 expence get store:
Clouds cool by heat, and Baths by cooling boil.
Who hath the vertue to expreſs the rare
And curious vertues both of Herbs and Stones?
Is there an Herb for that? O that thy care
Would ſhew 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 threatned man, that he ſhould fill the ſpace.
Ev'n poyſons praiſe thee. Should a thing be lost?
Should creatures want, for want of heed, their due?
Since where are poyſons, 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.
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; eaſie 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 cloſeneſs, ſhade:
Speed without pains, a horſe: tall without height,
A ſervile hawk: low without loſs, a ſpade.
All countreys 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 ſhew his heav'nly breed:
And only he hath fewel in deſire.
When th' earth was dry, thou mad'ſt a ſea of wet:
When that lay gather'd, thou didſt broch 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 cann,
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 limons juice and rind cure mutually.
The whey of milk doth looſe, the milk doth bind.
Thy creatures leap not, but expreſs a feaſt,
Where all the guests ſit cloſe, and nothing wants.
Frogs marry fiſh and fleſh; bats, bird and beast;
Sponges, non-ſenſe and ſenſe; mines, th' earth and plants.
To ſhew 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, th' 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 compleat, but only he that owes them.
All things that are, though they have ſev'ral 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.