Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Henry Vaughan. 16211695365. Friends Departed
THEY are all gone into the world of light! | |
And I alone sit ling’ring here; | |
Their very memory is fair and bright, | |
And my sad thoughts doth clear. | |
It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, | 5 |
Like stars upon some gloomy grove, | |
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest | |
After the sun’s remove. | |
I see them walking in an air of glory, | |
Whose light doth trample on my days: | 10 |
My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, | |
Mere glimmering and decays. | |
O holy Hope! and high Humility, | |
High as the heavens above! | |
These are your walks, and you have show’d them me, | 15 |
To kindle my cold love. | |
Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the Just, | |
Shining nowhere, but in the dark; | |
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, | |
Could man outlook that mark! | 20 |
He that hath found some fledg’d bird’s nest may know, | |
At first sight, if the bird be flown; | |
But what fair well or grove he sings in now, | |
That is to him unknown. | |
And yet as Angels in some brighter dreams | 25 |
Call to the soul, when man doth sleep: | |
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, | |
And into glory peep. | |
If a star were confin’d into a tomb, | |
Her captive flames must needs burn there; | 30 |
But when the hand that lock’d her up gives room, | |
She’ll shine through all the sphere. | |
O Father of eternal life, and all | |
Created glories under Thee! | |
Resume Thy spirit from this world of thrall | 35 |
Into true liberty. | |
Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill | |
My perspective still as they pass: | |
Or else remove me hence unto that hill, | |
Where I shall need no glass. | 40 |