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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=345282" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Glass</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=345282" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O Man! what Inspiration was thy Guide, <br>Who taught thee Light and Air thus to divide; <br>To let in all the useful Beams of Day, <br>Yet force, as subtil Winds, without thy Shash to stay; <br>T'extract from Embers by a strange Device, <br>Then polish fair these Flakes of solid Ice; <br>Which, silver'd o'er, redouble all in place, <br>And give thee back thy well or ill-complexion'd Face. <br>To Vessels blown exceed the gloomy Bowl, <br>Which did the Wine's full excellence controul, <br>These shew the Body, whilst you taste the Soul. <br>Its colour sparkles Motion, lets thee see, <br>Tho' yet th' Excess the Preacher warns to flee, <br>Lest Men at length as clearly spy through Thee.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Anne+Kingsmill+Finch">Anne Kingsmill Finch</a></strong></div>

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