The Demonstration

The highest things are easiest to be shewn,And only capable of being known.A mist involves the eyeWhile in the middle it doth live;And till the ends of things are seenThe way's uncertain that doth stand between.As in the air we see the cloudsLike winding sheets or shrouds,Which, though they nearer are, obscureThe sun, which, higher far, is far more pure.

Its very brightness makes it near the eye,Tho' many thousand leagues beyond the sky.Its beams by violenceInvade, and ravish distant sense.Only extremes and heights are known,No certainty, where no perfection's, shewn.Extremities of blessednessCompel us to confessA God indeed, Whose excellenceIn all His works must needs exceed all sense.

And for this cause incredibles aloneMay be by demonstration to us shewn.Those things that are most brightSun-like appear in their own light,And nothing's truly seen that's mean:Be it a sand, an acorn, or a bean,It must be cloth'd with endless glory,Before its perfect story(Be the spirit ne'er so clear)Can in its causes and its ends appear.

What can be more incredible than this,Where may we find a more profound abyss?What Heavenly height can beTranscendent to this Summity!What more desirable object canBe offered to the soul of hungering man!His gifts as they to us come downAre infinite and crownThe soul with strange fruitions; yetReturning from us they more value get.

And what than this can be more plain and clear?What truth than this more evident appear?The Godhead cannot prizeThe sun at all, nor yet the skies,Or air, or earth, or trees, or seas,Or stars, unless the soul of man they please.He neither sees with human eyes,Nor needs Himself seas, skies,Or earth, or any thing: He drawsNo breath, nor eats or drinks by Nature's laws.

The joy and pleasure which His soul doth takeIn all His works is for His creatures' sake.So great a certaintyWe in this holy doctrine seeThat there could be no worth at allIn any thing material, great, or small,Were not some creature more alive,Whence it might worth derive.God is the spring whence things come forth,Souls are the fountains of their real worth.

The joy and pleasure which His soul doth takeIn all His works is for His creatures' sake.Yet doth He take delightThat's altogether infiniteIn them even as they from Him come,For such His love and goodness is, the sumOf all His happiness doth seem,At least in His esteem,In that delight and joy to lieWhich is His blessed creatures' melody.

In them He sees, and feels, and smells, and lives,In them affected is to whom He gives:In them ten thousand ways,He all His work again enjoysAll things from Him to Him proceedBy them: are His in them: as if indeedHis Godhead did itself exceed.To them He all conveys;Nay, even Himself! He is the EndTo whom in them Himself, and all things tend.