Seeing the wholesome root bring forth a poisonous berry;
For otherwhile falleth it out that truth, driven to extremities,
Yieldeth bitter folly as the spoilt fruit of wisdom.
O, blinded is thine eye, if it see not just aptitude in all things:
O, frozen is thy heart, if it glow not with gratitude for all things:
In the perfect circle of creation not an atom could be spared,
From earth's magnetic zone to the bindweed round a hawthorn.
The sage, and the beetle at his feet, hath each a ministration to perform:
The briar and the palm have the wages of life, rendering secret service.
Neither is it thus alone with the definite existences of matter;