Creator & Destroyer

Man is all symmetry

Full of proportions, one limb to another,

And all to all the world besides

Each part may call the farthest, brother;

For head with foot hath private amity;

And both with moons and tides Nothing hath got so far

But man hath caught and kept it as his prey;

His eyes dismount the highest star: He is little all the sphere.

Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they find their acquaintance there

For us, the winds do blow, the earth doth rest

Heaven move and fountains flow. Nothing we see, but means are good

As our delight, or as our treasure;

The whole is either our cupboard of food,

Or cabinet of pleasure, The stars have us to bed

Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws

Music & light, attend our head

All things unto our flesh, are kind

In their descent, and being: to our mind

In their ascent and cause

More servants wait on man

Than he'll take notice of. In every path,

He treads down that which doth befriend him

When sickness makes him pale and wan...

Oh mighty love! Man is one world, and hath

Another to attend him