Their Height in Heaven comforts not --
Their Glory -- nought to me --
'Twas best imperfect -- as it was --
I'm finite -- I can't see --
The House of Supposition --
The Glimmering Frontier that
Skirts the Acres of Perhaps --
To Me -- shows insecure --
The Wealth I had -- contented me --
If 'twas a meaner size --
Then I had counted it until
It pleased my narrow Eyes --
Better than larger values --
That show however true --
This timid life of Evidence
Keeps pleading -- "I don't know."
To her derided Home
A Weed of Summer came --
She did not know her station low
Nor Ignominy's Name --
Bestowed a summer long
Upon a frameless flower --
Then swept as lightly from disdain
As Lady from her Bower --
Of Bliss the Codes are few --
As Jesus cites of Him --
"Come unto me" the moiety
That wafts the Seraphim --
Indeed this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men's eyes and prove the inner cost,—
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,—
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
She's happy, with a new Content --
That feels to her -- like Sacrament --
She's busy -- with an altered Care --
As just apprenticed to the Air --
She's tearful -- if she weep at all --
For blissful Causes -- Most of all
That Heaven permit so meek as her --
To such a Fate -- to Minister.
Hear me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part.
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein thy Love.
If thou hadst not
Been stern to me,
But left me free,
I had forgot
Myself and thee.
For sin's so sweet,
As minds ill-bent
Rarely repent,
Until they meet
Their punishment.
THe Sun's my Fire, when it does shine,
The hollow Spring's my Cave of Wine,
The Rocks and Woods afford me Meat;
This Lamb and I on one Dish eat:
The neighbouring Herds my Garments send,
My Pallet the kind Earth doth lend:
Excess and Grandure I decline,
M'Associates onely are Divine.
What shall I render to Thy name
Or how Thy praises speak?
My thanks how shall I testify?
O Lord, Thou know'st I'm weak.
I owe so much, so little can
Return unto Thy name,
Confusion seizes on my soul,
And I am filled with shame.
O Thou that hearest prayers, Lord,
To Thee shall come all flesh
Thou hast me heard and answered,
My plaints have had access.
What did I ask for but Thou gav'st?
What could I more desire?
But thankfulness even all my days
I humbly this require.
Most truly honoured, and as truly dear,
If worth in me or ought I do appear,
Who can of right better demand the same
Than may your worthy self from whom it came?
The principal might yield a greater sum,
Yet handled ill, amounts but to this crumb;
My stock's so small I know not how to pay,
My bond remains in force unto this day;
Yet for part payment take this simple mite,
Where nothing's to be had, kings loose their right.
Such is my debt I may not say forgive,
But as I can, I'll pay it while I live;
Such is my bond, none can discharge but I,
Yet paying is not paid until I die.
Heroes and kings! your distance keep:
In peace let one poor poet sleep,
Who never flatter'd folks like you:
Let Horace blush, and Virgil too.