The Water-Fall
1 With what deep murmurs through time's silent stealth
2 Doth thy transparent, cool, and wat'ry wealth
3 Here flowing fall,
4 And chide, and call,
5 As if his liquid, loose retinue stay'd
6 Ling'ring, and were of this steep place afraid;
7 The common pass
8 Where, clear as glass,
9 All must descend
10 Not to an end,
11 But quicken'd by this deep and rocky grave,
12 Rise to a longer course more bright and brave.
13 Dear stream! dear bank, where often I
14 Have sate and pleas'd my pensive eye,
15 Why, since each drop of thy quick store
16 Runs thither whence it flow'd before,
17 Should poor souls fear a shade or night,
18 Who came, sure, from a sea of light?
19 Or since those drops are all sent back
20 So sure to thee, that none doth lack,
21 Why should frail flesh doubt any more
22 That what God takes, he'll not restore?
23 O useful element and clear!
24 My sacred wash and cleanser here,
25 My first consigner unto those
26 Fountains of life where the Lamb goes!
27 What sublime truths and wholesome themes
28 Lodge in thy mystical deep streams!
29 Such as dull man can never find
30 Unless that Spirit lead his mind
31 Which first upon thy face did move,
32 And hatch'd all with his quick'ning love.
33 As this loud brook's incessant fall
34 In streaming rings restagnates all,
35 Which reach by course the bank, and then
36 Are no more seen, just so pass men.
37 O my invisible estate,
38 My glorious liberty, still late!
39 Thou art the channel my soul seeks,
40 Not this with cataracts and creeks.
The World
1 I saw Eternity the other night,
2 Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
3 All calm, as it was bright;
4 And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years,
5 Driv'n by the spheres
6 Like a vast shadow mov'd; in which the world
7 And all her train were hurl'd.
8 The doting lover in his quaintest strain
9 Did there complain;
10 Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights,
11 Wit's sour delights,
12 With gloves, and knots, the silly snares of pleasure,
13 Yet his dear treasure
14 All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour
15 Upon a flow'r.
16 The darksome statesman hung with weights and woe,
17 Like a thick midnight-fog mov'd there so slow,
18 He did not stay, nor go;
19 Condemning thoughts (like sad eclipses) scowl
20 Upon his soul,
21 And clouds of crying witnesses without
22 Pursued him with one shout.
23 Yet digg'd the mole, and lest his ways be found,
24 Work'd under ground,
25 Where he did clutch his prey; but one did see
26 That policy;
27 Churches and altars fed him; perjuries
28 Were gnats and flies;
29 It rain'd about him blood and tears, but he
30 Drank them as free.
31 The fearful miser on a heap of rust
32 Sate pining all his life there, did scarce trust
33 His own hands with the dust,
34 Yet would not place one piece above, but lives
35 In fear of thieves;
36 Thousands there were as frantic as himself,
37 And hugg'd each one his pelf;
38 The downright epicure plac'd heav'n in sense,
39 And scorn'd pretence,
40 While others, slipp'd into a wide excess,
41 Said little less;
42 The weaker sort slight, trivial wares enslave,
43 Who think them brave;
44 And poor despised Truth sate counting by
45 Their victory.
46 Yet some, who all this while did weep and sing,
47 And sing, and weep, soar'd up into the ring;
48 But most would use no wing.
49 O fools (said I) thus to prefer dark night
50 Before true light,
51 To live in grots and caves, and hate the day
52 Because it shews the way,
53 The way, which from this dead and dark abode
54 Leads up to God,
55 A way where you might tread the sun, and be
56 More bright than he.
57 But as I did their madness so discuss
58 One whisper'd thus,
59 "This ring the Bridegroom did for none provide,
60 But for his bride."
