In her great works responsive to their worths;
That she, that makes so many eyes and soules
To see and fore-see, is stark blind her selfe;
And as illiterate men say Latine prayers[5]
By rote of heart and dayly iteration,
Not knowing what they say, so Nature layes
A deale of stuffe together, and by use,
Or by the meere necessity of matter,
Ends such a work, fills it, or leaves it empty[10]
Of strength, or vertue, error, or cleare truth,