Page 105
OF this faire Volume which we World do name,
If we the sheets and leaves could turne with care,
Of him who it corrects, and did it frame,
We cleare might read the Art and Wisdome rare,
Find out his Power which wildest Pow'rs doth tame,
His Providence extending every-where,
His Justice which proud Rebels doth not spare,
In every Page, no, Period of the same:
But silly we like foolish Children rest,
Well pleas'd with colour'd Velum, Leaves of Gold,
Faire dangling Ribbands, leaving what is best,
On the great Writers sense ne're taking hold;
Or if by chance we stay our Minds on ought,
It is some Picture on the Margine wrought.