The very best or worst of things it is,
The basis of all misery or bliss.
Its measures and capacities are such,
Their utmost measure we can never touch.
Here ornament on ornament may still
Be laid; beauty on beauty, skill on skill,
Strength still on strength, and life itself on life,
'Tis Queen of all things, and its Maker's wife.
The best of thoughts is yet a thing unknown,
But when 'tis perfect it is like His own: