Upon the fire when cast, its baseness all behold!
Are not my heart and body wholly in his hand?
Why brain me, flay me, thus? So cunning, soft, and bland!
Commandest Thou me to flourish? As cornfield I’m green.
Decreest Thou me to wither? Straight I’m sallow seen.220
One day I’m bright as full moon; next, as eclipse dark.
But is not this of all God’s works the constant mark?
‘Be, and it is!’[295] A bat that drives man on, His laws!
Of entity, nonentity, that course is cause!
Th’ uncoloured being stained with colour’s various tinge,