William Drummond.
Of this fair volume which we “world” do name,
If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care,
Of him who it corrects and did it frame,
We clear might read the art and wisdom rare,
Find out his power, which wildest powers doth tame,
His providence extending everywhere,
His justice, which proud rebels doth not spare,
In every page—no period of the same.
But silly we, like foolish children, rest