The fleet astronomer can bore <br />And thread the spheres with his quick-piercing mind: <br />He views theirs stations, walks from door to door, <br />Surveys, as if he had designed <br />To make a purchase there: he sees their dances, <br />And knoweth long before, <br />Both their full-eyed aspects, and secret glances. <br /> <br />The nimble diver with his side <br />Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch <br />His dearly-earned pearl, which God did hide <br />On purpose from the ventrous wretch; <br />That he might save his life, and also hers, <br />Who with excessive pride <br />Her own destruction and his danger wears. <br /> <br />The subtle chymick can devest <br />And strip the creature naked, till he find <br />The callow principles within their nest: <br />There he imparts to them his mind, <br />Admitted to their bed-chamber, before <br />They appear trim and drest <br />To ordinary suitors at the door. <br /> <br />What hath not man sought out and found, <br />But his dear God? who yet his glorious law <br />Embosoms in us, mellowing the ground <br />With showers and frosts, with love and awe, <br />So that we need not say, Where's this command? <br />Poor man, thou searchest round <br />To find out death, but missest life at hand.<br /><br />George Herbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/vanity-i/
