An anchor gave to me.

Then an old prayer-book I did present:

               And he an optic sent.

With that I have a vial full of tears:

               But he a few green ears.

"Ah Loiterer! I'll no more, no more I'll bring:

               I did expect a ring."

     In all things you to see,

And what I do in any thing,

     To do it as for thee:

     Not rudely, as a beast,

     To run into an action;

But still to make you prepossess'd,

     And give it his perfection.

     A man that looks on glass,

     On it may stay his eye;

Or if he pleases, through it pass,

     And then the heaven espy.

     All may of you partake:

     Nothing can be so mean,

Which with his tincture (for your sake)

     Will not grow bright and clean.

     A servant with this clause

     Makes drudgery divine:

Who sweeps a room, as for your laws,

     Makes that and th’ action fine.

     This is the famous stone

     That changes all to gold:

For that which God does touch and own

     Cannot for less be told.