Eternal God! Maker of all <br />That have lived here since the man's fall: <br />The Rock of Ages! in whose shade <br />They live unseen, when here they fade; <br /> <br />Thou knew'st this paper when it was <br />Mere seed, and after that but grass; <br />Before 'twas dressed or spun, and when <br />Made linen, who did wear it then: <br />What were their lives, their thoughts, and deeds, <br />Whether good corn or fruitless weeds. <br /> <br />Thou knew'st this tree when a green shade <br />Covered it, since a cover made, <br />And where it flourished, grew, and spread, <br />As if it never should be dead. <br /> <br />Thou knew'st this harmless beast when he <br />Did live and feed by Thy decree <br />On each green thing; then slept - well fed - <br />Clothed with this skin which now lies spread <br />A covering o'er this aged book; <br />Which makes me wisely weep, and look <br />On my own dust; mere dust it is, <br />But not so dry and clean as this. <br />Thou knew'st and saw'st them all, and though <br />Now scattered thus, dost know them so. <br /> <br />O knowing, glorious Spirit! when <br />Thou shalt restore trees, beasts, and men, <br />When Thou shalt make all new again, <br />Destroying only death and pain, <br />Give him amongst Thy works a place <br />Who in them loved and sought Thy face!<br /><br />Henry Vaughan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-book-19/
