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Poem	The heavenly frame sets forth the fame Of him that only thunders; The firmament, so strangely bent, Shows his handworking wonders. Day unto day doth it display, Their course doth it acknowledge, And night to night succeeding right In darkness teach clear knowledge. There is no speech, no language which Is so of skill bereaved, But of the skies the teaching cries They have heard and conceived. There be no eyen but read the line From so fair book proceeding, Their words be set in letters great For everybody's reading. Is not he blind that doth not find The tabernacle builded There by His Grace for sun's fair face In beams of beauty gilded? Who forth doth come, like a bridegroom, From out his veiling places, As glad is he, as giants be To run their mighty races. His race is even from ends of heaven; About that vault he goeth; There be no realms hid from his beams; His heat to all he throweth. O law of His, how perfect 'tis The very soul amending; God's witness sure for aye doth dure To simplest wisdom lending. God's dooms be right, and cheer the sprite, All His commandments being So purely wise it gives the eyes Both light and force of seeing. Of Him the fear doth cleanness bear And so endures forever, His judgments be self verity, They are unrighteous never. Then what man would so soon seek gold Or glittering golden money? By them is past in sweetest taste, Honey or comb of honey. By them is made Thy servants' trade Most circumspectly guarded, And who doth frame to keep the same Shall fully be rewarded. Who is the man that ever can His faults know and acknowledge? O Lord, cleanse me from faults that be Most secret from all knowledge. Thy servant keep, lest in him creep Presumtuous sins' offenses; Let them not have me for their slave Nor reign upon my senses. So shall my sprite be still upright In thought and conversation, So shall I bide well purified From much abomination. So let words sprung from my weak tongue And my heart's meditation, My saving might, Lord, in Thy sight, Receive good acceptation!
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