GLASS
.
O
Man
!
what
Inspiration
was
thy
Guide
,
Who
taught
thee
Light
and
Air
thus
to
divide
;
To
let
in
all
the
useful
Beams
of
Day
,
Yet
force
,
as
subtil
Winds
,
without
thy
Shash
to
stay
;
T'
extract
from
Embers
by
a
strange
Device
,
Then
polish
fair
these
Flakes
of
solid
Ice
;
Which
,
silver'd
o'er
,
redouble
all
in
place
,
And
give
thee
back
thy
well
or
ill-complexion'd
Face
.
To
Vessels
blown
exceed
the
gloomy
Bowl
,
Which
did
the
Wine's
full
excellence
controul
,
These
shew
the
Body
,
whilst
you
taste
the
Soul
.
Its
Colour
sparkles
Motion
,
lets
thee
see
,
Tho'
yet
th'
Excess
the
Preacher
warns
to
flee
,
Lest
Men
at
length
as
clearly
spy
through
Thee
.