George Herbert: The Windows

The Windows

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 store,
          Making thy life to shine within 
The holy Preachers, then the light and glorie
          More rev'rend grows, and more doth win;
          Which else shows watrish, bleak, and then.

Doctrine and life, colors 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.


Bill Bynum said…
A fine poem for any season. Thanks for the quote.