'The Windows' (poem) written by George Herbert

Lord, how can man preach thy eternal word?

He is a brittle, crazy glass;

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 glass thy story,

Makin thy life to shine within

The holy Preacher's, then the light and glory

The more rev'rend grows, and more doth win;

Which else shows waterish, bleak, and thin.


Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one

When they combine and mingle, bring

A strong regard and awe; but speech alone

Doth vanish like a flaring thing,

And in the ear, not conscience, ring.

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