@3Stanza@1 I. OFT have I ponder'd in my pensive heart, When even from myself I've stol'n away, And heavily consider'd many a day, The cause of all my anguish and my smart: Sometimes besides a shady grove (As dark as were my thoughts, as close as was my Love), Dejected have I walk'd alone, Acquainting scarce myself with my own moan. Once I resolv'd undauntedly to hear What 'twas my passions had to say, To find the reason of that uproar there, And calmly, if I could, to end the fray: No sooner was my resolution known But I was all confusion. Fierce Anger, flattering Hope, and black Despair, Bloody Revenge, and most ignoble Fear, Now altogether clamorous were; My breast a perfect chaos grown, A mass of nameless things together hurl'd, Like th' formless embryo of the unborn world, Just as it's rousing from eternal night, Before the great Creator said, @3Let there be Light@1. II. Thrice happy then are beasts, said I, That underneath these pleasant coverts lie, They only sleep, and eat, and drink, They never meditate, nor think; Or if they do, have not th' unhappy art To vent the overflowings of their heart; They without trouble live, without disorder die, Regardless of Eternity. I said, I would like them be wise, And not perplex myself in vain, Nor bite th' uneasy chain, No, no, said I, I will Philosophise! And all th' ill-natur'd World despise: But when I had reflected long, And with deliberation thought How few have practis'd what they gravely taught, (Tho' 'tis but folly to complain) I judg'd it worth a generous disdain, And brave defiance in Pindaric song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAMOMILE TEA by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THURSDAY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS WRITTEN IN EMERSON'S ESSAYS by MATTHEW ARNOLD TO MARY IN HEAVEN by ROBERT BURNS THE ENKINDLED SPRING by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 20 by PHILIP SIDNEY |