SON. LXV.GReat is thy powre, and more then we conceiue,Thy glorie more then can discerned be;Mans greatest gift is this, that he may see,Or know, that vertue thine doth his bereaue:His dazeling eyes each shadow doth deceaue,His iudgement builded on inconstant ground,His strength but weaknesse in it selfe is found,His glorie, greater glorie must receiueFrom thee, in whom all glorie doth abound:What maiestie dare man compare with thee,To whom all creatures bow obedient knee?Whose contemplations thou doest cleane confound,Vpon this ground. True blisse & wisdome stand,To know, our wisedome floweth from thy hand.SON. LXVI.AS but vaine hope it is for man to trust,To thing not promised, or not in powreOf speaker to performe at pointed howre,Which is the case of flesh and bloud vniust:So call that hope, no wise man can or must,Which is performance of expected thing;When as possession doth assurance bring,Of thing whereafter we tofore did lust:The Saints in heauen in ioyfull rest do sing,Whom hope nor feare do raise or yet deuower,But men on earth haue hope a resting tower,To shield them from despightfull Satans sting:Faith is the wing Makes me to hope ascend,And truth in Christ will make my hope haue end.0