John Donne — Temple

With his kind mother, who partakes thy woe, Joseph turn back; see where your child doth sit, Blowing, yea blowing out those sparks of wit, Which himself on the Doctors did bestow; The Word but lately could not speake, and loe It suddenly speaks wonders, whence comes it, That all which was, and all which should be writ, A shallow seeming child, should deeply know? His Godhead was not soul to his manhood, Nor had time mellow'd him to this ripenesse, But as for one which hath a long task, 'tis good, With the Sunne to begin his businesse, He in His age's morning thus began By miracles exceeding power of man.