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George Herbert - Giddinesse
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Oh, what a thing is man! how farre from power,
                From setled peace and rest!
He is some twentie sev`rall men at least
                Each sev`rall houre.

One while he counts of heav`n, as of his treasure:
                But then a thought creeps in,
And calls him coward, who for fear of sinne
                Will lose a pleasure.

Now he will fight it out, and to the warres;
                Now eat his bread in peace,
And snudge in quiet: now he scorns increase;
                Now all day spares.

He builds a house, which quickly down must go,
                As if a whirlwinde blew
And crusht the building: and it`s partly true,
                His minde is so.

O what a sight were Man, if his attires
                Did alter with his minde;
And like a Dolphin`s skinne, his clothes combin`d
                With his desires!

Surely if each one saw another`s heart,
                There would be no commerce,
No sale or bargain pass: all would disperse,
                And live apart.

Lord, mend or rather make us: one creation
               Will not suffice our turn:
Except thou make us dayly, we shall spurn
                Our own salvation.
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