A ward, and still in bonds, one day I stole abroad; It was high spring, and all the way Primrosed and hung with shade; Yet was it frost within, And surly winds Blasted my infant buds, and sin Like clouds eclipsed my mind. Stormed thus, I straight perceived my spring Mere stage and show, My walk a monstruous, mountained thing, Roughcast with rocks and snow; And a pilgrim's eye, Far from relief, Measures the melancholy sky, Then drops and rains for grief, So sighed I upwards still; at last 'Twixt steps and falls I reached the pinnacle, where placed I found a pair of scales; I took them up and laid In th' one, late pains; The other smoke and pleasure weighed, But proved the heavier grains. With that some cried, "Away!" Straight I Obeyed, And led Full east, a fair, fresh field could spy; Some called it Jacob's bed, A virgin soil which no Rude feet ere trod, Where, since he stepped there, only go Prophets and friends of God. Here I reposed; but scarce well set, A grove descried Of stately height, whose branches met And mixed on every side; I entered, and once in, Amazed to see 't, Found all was changed, and a new spring Did all my senses greet. The unthrift sun shot vital gold, A thousand pieces, And heaven its azure did unfold, Checkered with snowy fleeces; The air was all in spice, And every bush A garland wore: thus fed my eyes, But all the ear lay hush. Only a little fountain lent Some use for ears, And on the dumb shades language spent, The music of her tears; I drew her near, and found The cistern full Of divers stones, some bright and round, Others ill-shaped and dull. The first, pray mark, as quick as light Danced through the flood, But the last, more heavy than the night, Nailed to the center stood; I wondered much, but tired At last with thought, My restless eye that still desired As strange an object brought. It was a bank of flowers, where I descried Though 'twas midday, Some fast asleep, others broad-eyed And taking in the ray; Here, musing long, I heard A rushing wind Which stil increased, but whence it stirred No where I could not find. I turned me round, and to each shade Dispatched an eye To see if any leaf had made Least motion or reply, But while I listening sought My mind to ease By knowing where 'twas, or where not, It whispered, "Where I please." "Lord," then said I, "on me one breath, And let me die before my death!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON AN INFANT WHICH DIED BEFORE BAPTISM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ONCE BY THE PACIFIC by ROBERT FROST EPITAPH ON THE TOMB OF SIR EDWARD GILES AND HIS WIFE by ROBERT HERRICK CARMEN BELLICOSUM by GUY HUMPHREYS MCMASTER TWICE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI PERVERSITY by EVA K. ANGLESBURG PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 29. AL-HAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD |