Part 82 (1/2)

1 I saw eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright; And round beneath it, time, in hours, days, years, Driven by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled.

The doting lover in his quaintest strain Did there complain; Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights, Wit's sour delights; With gloves, and knots, the silly snares of pleasure, Yet his dear treasure, All scattered lay, while he his eyes did pour Upon a flower.

2 The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe, Like a thick midnight fog, moved there so slow, He did nor stay, nor go; Condemning thoughts, like sad eclipses, scowl Upon his soul, And clouds of crying witnesses without Pursued him with one shout.

Yet digged the mole, and, lest his ways be found, Worked under ground, Where he did clutch his prey. But one did see That policy.

Churches and altars fed him; perjuries Were gnats and flies; It rained about him blood and tears; but he Drank them as free.

3 The fearful miser on a heap of rust Sat pining all his life there, did scarce trust His own hands with the dust, Yet would not place one piece above, but lives In fear of thieves.

Thousands there were as frantic as himself, And hugged each one his pelf; The downright epicure placed heaven in sense, And scorned pretence; While others, slipped into a wide excess, Said little less; The weaker sort slight, trivial wares enslave, Who think them brave, And poor, despised truth sat counting by Their victory.

4 Yet some, who all this while did weep and sing, And sing and weep, soared up into the ring; But most would use no wing.

'O fools,' said I,'thus to prefer dark night Before true light!

To live in grots and caves, and hate the day Because it shows the way, The way, which from this dead and dark abode Leads up to G.o.d, A way where you might tread the sun, and be More bright than he!'

But, as I did their madness so discuss, One whispered thus, 'This ring the bridegroom did for none provide, But for his bride.'

'All that is in the world, the l.u.s.t of the flesh, the l.u.s.t of the eye, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world pa.s.seth away, and the l.u.s.ts thereof; but he that doeth the will of G.o.d abideth for ever.'--1 JOHN ii. 16, 17.

THE CONSTELLATION.

1 Fair, ordered lights, whose motion without noise Resembles those true joys, Whose spring is on that hill where you do grow, And we here taste sometimes below.

2 With what exact obedience do you move, Now beneath, and now above!

And in your vast progressions overlook The darkest night and closest nook!

3 Some nights I see you in the gladsome east, Some others near the west, And when I cannot see, yet do you s.h.i.+ne, And beat about your endless line.

4 Silence and light and watchfulness with you Attend and wind the clue; No sleep nor sloth a.s.sails you, but poor man Still either sleeps, or slips his span.

5 He gropes beneath here, and with restless care, First makes, then hugs a snare; Adores dead dust, sets heart on corn and gra.s.s, But seldom doth make heaven his gla.s.s.

6 Music and mirth, if there be music here, Take up and tune his ear; These things are kin to him, and must be had; Who kneels, or sighs a life, is mad.

7 Perhaps some nights he'll watch with you, and peep When it were best to sleep; Dares know effects, and judge them long before, When the herb he treads knows much, much more.

8 But seeks he your obedience, order, light, Your calm and well-trained flight?

Where, though the glory differ in each star, Yet is there peace still and no war.

9 Since placed by him, who calls you by your names, And fixed there all your flames, Without command you never acted ought, And then you in your courses fought.

10 But here, commissioned by a black self-will, The sons the father kill, The children chase the mother, and would heal The wounds they give by crying zeal.

11 Then cast her blood and tears upon thy book, Where they for fas.h.i.+on look; And, like that lamb, which had the dragon's voice, Seem mild, but are known by their noise.

12 Thus by our l.u.s.ts disordered into wars, Our guides prove wandering stars, Which for these mists and black days were reserved, What time we from our first love swerved.

13 Yet oh, for his sake who sits now by thee All crowned with victory, So guide us through this darkness, that we may Be more and more in love with day!

14 Settle and fix our hearts, that we may move In order, peace, and love; And, taught obedience by thy whole creation, Become an humble, holy nation!

15 Give to thy spouse her perfect and pure dress, Beauty and holiness; And so repair these rents, that men may see And say, 'Where G.o.d is, all agree.'

MISERY.

Lord, bind me up, and let me lie A prisoner to my liberty, If such a state at all can be As an impris'ment serving thee; The wind, though gathered in thy fist, Yet doth it blow still where it list, And yet shouldst thou let go thy hold, Those gusts might quarrel and grow bold.

As waters here, headlong and loose, The lower grounds still chase and choose, Where spreading ail the way they seek And search out every hole and creek; So my spilt thoughts, winding from thee, Take the down-road to vanity, Where they all stray, and strive which shall Find out the first and steepest fall.