The fleet astronomer can bore 
And thread the spheres with his quick-piercing mind: 
He views theirs stations, walks from door to door, 
Surveys, as if he had designed 
To make a purchase there: he sees their dances, 
And knoweth long before, 
Both their full-eyed aspects, and secret glances. 

The nimble diver with his side 
Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch 
His dearly-earned pearl, which God did hide 
On purpose from the ventrous wretch; 
That he might save his life, and also hers, 
Who with excessive pride 
Her own destruction and his danger wears. 

The subtle chymick can devest 
And strip the creature naked, till he find 
The callow principles within their nest: 
There he imparts to them his mind, 
Admitted to their bed-chamber, before 
They appear trim and drest 
To ordinary suitors at the door. 

What hath not man sought out and found, 
But his dear God? who yet his glorious law 
Embosoms in us, mellowing the ground 
With showers and frosts, with love and awe, 
So that we need not say, Where's this command? 
Poor man, thou searchest round 
To find out death, but missest life at hand.