Is now become a Sparkle, which doth lie
Under the ashes, half extinct, and dead;
How can we hope, that through the Eye and Ear,
This dying Sparkle, in this cloudy place,
Can re-collect these beams of knowledge clear,
Which were infused in the first minds, by grace?
So might the heir, whose father hath in play
Wasted a thousand pounds of ancient rent,
By painful earning of one groat a day,
Hope to restore the patrimony spent.