Of things vnseene how canst thou deeme aright, xxxix Then answered the righteous _Artegall_, Sith thou misdeem’st so much of things in sight? What though the sea with waues continuall Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all: Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought, For whatsoeuer from one place doth fall, Is with the tide vnto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought. Likewise the earth is not augmented more, xl By all that dying into it doe fade. For of the earth they formed were of yore, How euer gay their blossome or their blade Doe flourish now, they into dust shall vade. What wrong then is it, if that when they die, They turne to that, whereof they first were made? All in the powre of their great Maker lie: All creatures must obey the voice of the most hie. They liue, they die, like as he doth ordaine, xli Ne euer any asketh reason why. The hils doe not the lowly dales disdaine; The dales doe not the lofty hils enuy. He maketh Kings to sit in souerainty; He maketh subiects to their powre obay; He pulleth downe, he setteth vp on hy; He giues to this, from that he takes away. For all we haue is his: what he list doe, he may. What euer thing is done, by him is donne, xlii Ne any may his mighty will withstand; Ne any may his soueraine power shonne, Ne loose that he hath bound with stedfast band. In vaine therefore doest thou now take in hand, To call to count, or weigh his workes anew, Whose counsels depth thou canst not vnderstand, Sith of things subiect to thy daily vew Thou doest not know the causes, nor their courses dew. For take thy ballaunce, if thou be so wise, xliii And weigh the winde, that vnder heauen doth blow; Or weigh the light, that in the East doth rise; Or weigh the thought, that from mans mind doth flow. But if the weight of these thou canst not show, Weigh but one word which from thy lips doth fall. For how canst thou those greater secrets know, That doest not know the least thing of them all? Ill can he rule the great, that cannot reach the small. Therewith the Gyant much abashed sayd; xliv That he of little things made reckoning light, Yet the least word that euer could be layd Within his ballaunce, he could way aright. Which is (sayd he) more heauy then in weight, The right or wrong, the false or else the trew? He answered, that he would try it streight, So he the words into his ballaunce threw, But streight the winged words out of his ballaunce flew.