No More Learning

Just so, when vanished the bouquet of wine,
Or when an unguent's perfume delicate
Into the winds away departs, or when
From any body savour's gone, yet still
The thing itself seems minished naught to eyes,
Thereby, nor aught           from its weight--
No marvel, because seeds many and minute
Produce the savours and the redolence
In the whole body of the things.